Trial of the Mouse
by Mephiles454
Summary: It's been two weeks since the infamous Christmas when Becky agreed to join the Scarecrow, and has since been reborn as the criminal Scream. But not everything's going to be easy for Crane's little mouse. A dark shadow is on the horizon, and a familiar face from the past may pose more danger to her than anything else. Sequel to The Dance of the Crane. I recommend reading that first
1. Prologue: Stalker in the Night

**Hello, everybody. I'm back. It's been a while, hasn't it? I've decided to make a sequel to my previous story, Dance of the Crane. This one is Trial of the Mouse. **

**There's going to be a lot of development with character in these next few chapters, while a sinister shadow is watched our protagonists fight for their lives. **

**But that's enough suspense. Let's dive into the story!**

**Oh, and just in case I forgot on my last story. I do not own the Batman Universe or the comics, save for two comics that I got for Christmas. Because if I owned it, Becky would have a heck of a lot more development than she had. **

Prologue

Stalker in the Night

In a dark corner of the Amusement mile, a dark figure watched the monitors of his lair with interest. Around him, chemicals brewed and bubbled in their vats; the light of the moon shown through the darkened warehouse, casting shadows around the room, with only the glow of the chemicals providing illumination for the walkways

A henchman approached the figure, whom held up a hand for the henchman to stop, all without looking up from the monitors.

"We located more of the chemicals you needed. Shipments will be arriving in three days."

"Good," the figure replied, its feminine voice revealing that the figure was a woman. "Be sure to deliver it to my hideout by then and have your men guarding the shipments." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Do NOT lose it."

The henchman gulped. The last henchman to defy her orders ended up being used in her experiments. If he failed…he didn't even want to think about it. "Y-Yes, ma'am."

The figure's face twisted into a grin, as she turned back to her work observing the figures on the screen.

"Soon, my love, I will make sure that nothing will stand in our way," she crooned, staring at the taller man on the monitor. Her eyes narrowed as her eyes caught sight of the smaller woman on the video. "Including her."

Turning away from the monitor, she strides away, unable to watch anymore without losing her temper.

But soon, it all went well, the girl would be eliminated and the man would be hers.

It would only be a matter of time.

**Alright, this is the prologue. Send me a review to tell me what you think and stay tuned for more chapters coming soon. **


	2. Tea Party

**Hey, guys. It's been a bit, hasn't it? I realize the last chapter was a little short. But in all fairness, it was a prologue to the main story here. I hope you enjoy our adventure as we continue. Edit: Sorry about the Format. I had no idea that the format was cramped. Thank you so much guys for telling me.**

Jonathan Crane watched as Scream made her way though the obstacle course, weaving her way smoothly through the winding corridors of the maze. He took notes on her progress. For someone who had only joined a week ago, she was making a good effort on her training.

Becky weaved around another corner. This test was designed to push her speed, cognition, and direction skills to the limit as she raced to the center of the maze. She lightly nicked the side with her metal cane as she ran past it. "So, what's the deal with this test, Crane? I didn't think the Henches needed to train."

Crane laughed. "Really, what does the news media feed the public these days? Every person, rogue or hench, has to train at least somewhat before they go out on their first heist."

"Even you?" she retorted, taking a right turn. She could nearly see the middle, although she could be wrong.

Crane smirked as he pressed a button. As Becky round the corner and entered into the spacious middle, a small platform rose out of the ground. On it, perched squarely in the middle on a small, paper plate, was… "Cheese?" Becky gaped, before rolling her eyes. "Really, Crane? Really?"

Crane snickered. "Well, you are quite a plucky little mouse, so I thought you would like a…reward for all your troubles. It's the least I could do," he said sarcastically, nibbling on a piece of chocolate cake from the balcony he was perched upon.

"Ha, ha, very funny, Crane," she said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "Now, where's the real thing?"

Crane smirked, before pressing another switch. The platform went down into the floor. After a few seconds, the platform rose again, this time displaying a single slice of chocolate cake. Scream grinned, grabbing the plate as the panels reset themselves, allowing her to walk across the room, and climb the stairs to join Crane's side.

"So," she said, wiping her brow. "How did I do?"

Crane checked the time on his watch. "15 minutes."

Becky sighed. She had been trying her hardest to beat her time, yet her disabled leg kept slowing her down. It frustrated her a little that her body refused to move to her will. "Not again," she groaned under her breath.

Crane looked up from his notes. From the many years and a few months of observing her actions and mannerisms, he could tell when something was up. "Is something wrong?"

Becky shook her head. "It's nothing."

Crane only grunted. Women. He shrugged mentally. He returned back to his research.

The phone rang, startling both out of their separate thoughts. "I've got it," Crane muttered, before picking up the phone. He barely suppressed a scowl. He hated having his work interrupted, especially when it concerned his newest partner. "Hello?" he asked into the microphone.

"Oh, Jonathan. I was hoping to contact you," the excited voice of Jervis Tetch sounded over the speaker.

"What is it, Tetch? You do know that this is an emergency phone only, correct?" Crane growled, rubbing his temples. It was always a handful to talk to Tetch, whether he was speaking Wonderlandese or not. On one hand, it took a great familiarity with both Tetch and his favorite book to get his point across, but even when he was sane, it took a bit to get his attention, and when you did, it took a great deal of patience to not slap duct-tape over his mouth to shut him up. Thankfully, he wasn't as annoying today.

"Well…I know," Jervis said, slightly downcast at being chastised, before instantly perking back up. "But the reason I called you is an emergency."

"Did Batman find your hideout again?" Crane replied, sighing.

"Well…no."

"Then it's not an emergency," Crane snapped, about to hang up.

"Wait, wait, Jonathan!"

"Yes, Tetch. What is it!" Crane roared.

"I-I was only wanting to invite you to a New Year's feast at my place. I-I baked you pumpkin pie," the Hatter whimpered, sounding almost like he was about to cry.

Crane sighed. A crying Tetch was the worst Tetch of all. "Alright, alright, Tetch. Fine. I'll come to the party."

"Hooray! Calloh Callay!" Tetch shouted into the speaker, causing Crane to lean as far away from the phone as possible. "This'll be great! I'll be preparing the tea. When will you be coming?"

"Um…" Crane looked at his watch. "Around…6:30." He decided that would give them a little bit of a head start on the Bat.

"All right, 6:30 it is," Tetch replied, marking it on his Alice in Wonderland post-it notes. "That'll give me just enough time to prepare the tarts and tea."

"I'll also be bringing along a plus-one," Crane replied, glancing over his shoulder towards Becky, who was slowly eating her slice of chocolate cake.

"A plus-one? Excellent! I'll prepare a seat for her. Does she like cake?"

"Chocolate with chocolate icing."

"Alright, I'll see you at the tea party," Tetch said, before hanging up.

Jonathan put down the phone, before starting to gather his supplies.

"What's going on?" Becky asked, grabbing her mask.

"It seems we've been invited to a party," Crane replied, slipping on his mask and straw hat.

"And where might that be?" Becky replied, depositing her plate into the trashcan as Crane led her to the roof of their warehouse, which was located in the Amusement Mile towards the northeast.

"You'll see," Crane replied, before taking her hand as they began to run along the rooftops, keeping an eye towards the sky to spot the patrolling Bat as they made their way towards Tetch's hideout in the Bowery.

"So, this is it?" Becky remarked, gesturing at the sad, little hat shop at the corner of the Bowery, Chap's Hats, right across from the Gotham museum.

"This is it," Crane stated.

"It's kinda…small," Becky replied.

The Scarecrow smirked, guiding her towards the door.

Opening the door, she was greeted by a huge array of hats. Sun hats, bowler hats, baseball caps, fedoras, cowboy hats. It seemed like every hat of every kind was here in that little store, along with several that appeared to be masks as well.

Becky couldn't help but gape at all the different headgear in the store. She had never seen so many hats in her life. Everywhere she looked, she saw hats. She had no idea someone could own so many hats.

"Impressive, isn't it?"

Becky nearly jumped ten feet in the air as Jervis Tetch's voice squeaked from the counter. Tetch unlatched the door of the counter and made his way towards her. "These are all my hats I've collected over the years. The top hats are a favorite, but I like to collect a few others in my travels," he grinned, giving a short, little bow. "Oh, but where are my manner? Jervis Tetch, the Mad Hatter, at your service," he said, as he took off his hat in respect.

"Um…Becky," she replied, unsure of whether to reciprocate his bow or whether to just offer a simple handshake.

Tetch's eyes lit up at the mention of her name. "You wouldn't happen to be THE Becky, would you? Oh, of course you are! Why else would you be accompanying dear Jonathan on such a lovely evening?" He took them by the wrists and raced for the doors, throwing them open in a frenzy as they raced down the numerous stairs of the Hatter's domain. There were several rooms that were much bigger than they originally appeared, and some appeared to be almost too small to get through.

Becky looked over at Crane. "Is he usually like this?" she whispered to him.

Crane murmured back. "Sometimes. You've caught him on a special occasion."

When Tetch finally halted his search, he slowly opened the door. "Welcome…to Wonderland."

The room he had brought them to was very bright and colorful. Trees were painted on the walls, which was bordered by lovely red roses, half of them painted red and half of them painted white. In the center sat a long table, whose seats could have seated at least a good ten people. And at the head of the table, tied up with a thick rope, was Alice Pleasance herself.

"Alice?" Becky exclaimed, shocked.

"Becky?" Alice exclaimed, also shocked.

Becky then noticed that her friend was tied up, and turned to Tetch. "Why is she tied up?"

Tetch just smiled. "Well, I didn't want her to run off before the party started. What's a party without the guest of honor?"

Becky flinched at his sinister smile. It was even worse then Crane's, by far. She also noticed a flaw in his plan. "But if she's all tied up, how is she going to eat?"

Tetch frowned. "Hmm, good question. Hold on a second," he told them, before loosening Alice's bonds. "There, now she can eat."

Becky was about to open her mouth to protest, but a short glance from Crane silenced her. She needed to play it safe if she wanted to make sure Alice was safe. And against someone as unpredictable as the Hatter, she needed to keep her guard up and do what he asks, at least, within reason. And if something should happen, she had her fear gas. But she didn't want to use it, not while Alice was here. She didn't want her friend to think of her as a monster now that she sided with Crane.

Alice immediately slid her hands out of her bonds, rubbing her tender muscles.

Tetch sniffed the air. "Oh, the pastries are ready," he said, dashing towards the kitchen. He came back with his arms loaded with cake, petit fours, tarts, pies, and saucers loaded with tea. The cake he carried was a tall, chocolate monstrosity that was nearly taller than the man who baked it. Heaving with all his strength, he placed the cake onto the center of the table, distributing the smaller pastries to his guests. "

Tetch, what on earth have you been up to?" Crane said, nearly balking at the quantity of food before him. He had no idea how he and Becky could eat that humongous cake.

The Hatter grinned sheepishly. "Well, I heard that you were bringing a plus-one, and I guess I got… a little…carried away."

"A little?" Crane remarked sarcastically, his eyebrows rose.

Even Becky was stunned. She had never seen so many sweets in her life. But as she looked over at Alice, she knew that the young woman was very confused. She wandered over to her side. "Hey, are you okay?" she whispered.

Alice nodded. "I'm fine, Becky," she whispered back, occasionally glancing over at the Scarecrow and the Hatter. "You're with the Scarecrow, aren't you?"

"I…" Becky started to reply, but then hung her head in shame. "Yes."

Alice looked down, "Oh, I see. I understand," she said softly. "Alice-"

"We'll talk about this later," she replied, suddenly sounding cold.

Becky nodded, slightly sad, as she went back to Crane's side.

"Um…Jervis?" Alice spoke up, getting the Hatter's immediate and undivided attention. "Can I please be untied?"

Jervis blinked, before his eyes started to fill with anger. Becky gulped, suddenly very afraid for her friend. "Why should I? You'll certainly run away again, especially since I was the one to kidnap you again! Why should I let you have a chance to escape, when I know you'll never come back?!" he screamed, his voice getting shriller and shriller as he stomped towards her until he was looking her in the eye.

Alice recoiled, shocked. She hadn't known how much her presence meant to him, or the fact that he was so afraid of her leaving him. "Jervis, I promise not to leave until the party's over, okay?"

The Hatter blinked, surprised. His eyes filled with hope. "You will?"

She nodded. "I will." She smiled. "Besides, it would be rude of me to leave when you went to all this trouble to make these pastries."

Jervis beamed. "Well, thank you, Alice." He quickly released her from her bonds. Then he turned to address the whole group. "Now, let's eat!"

The trio of villains and one civilian happily gorged themselves on sweets.


	3. Promise

**Sorry about the cramped style from the last chapter. I'll try to fix it as best I can. Thank you all for being so patient while I figure out this site.**

Becky looked around the suburban area of Gotham City. She knew that, after the tea party incident a few days ago, she had a lot of explaining to do. She just hoped that her sudden appearance with Crane hadn't shattered her friendship with Alice.

In her past experiences with her previous friendships, something like this would most definitely end her being associated with those friends, not to mention the friendship itself. She doubted that wouldn't be the case this time. And if it were the case, she'd rather have the closure of knowing that the friendship was over than continuing to live in fear of what could be. That she couldn't stand at all.

Becky took note on where she was, careful to keep a mental map of the neighborhood so she wouldn't get lost. Eventually, she found the house. She didn't know how she could have missed it. It was right in the center of the cul-de-sac.

She paused as she came to the porch of the house. She could still walk away right now. She could still have the memories of the good times and possibly delude herself into believing that the friendship had never ended.

But she also remembered what Crane had said about the subject, when she had asked which he had preferred, facing the fear or running away. "You can't run away from your fears, Becky," she repeated to herself. "Filling your mind with more things to fear will only drive you crazier and crazier and crazier until you eventually snap."

Taking a deep breath, she rang the doorbell. The sound of locks being unlatched greeted her ears before the sight of the girl herself. "Oh, hi, Becky," Alice greeted, somewhat surprised to see her at the door. Previously, she had only seen and talked to her around the University. She had not actually visited her home.

"Hey, Alice. Mind if I come in?" Becky asked.

"Um…sure," Alice replied, leading her inside.

The house was filled, but roomy. It looked like the average home of a college student, with tons of books scattered on the small coffee table. But there also a few toys scattered around the floor.

Becky picked up one. It was a small, stuffed plushy of a pterodactyl.

"You don't have any kids around here, do ya?" she asked, looking around her living room, half of it occupied by textbooks and the other half filled with children's toys.

Alice giggled, blushing a bit. "No, no. It's for my teaching class."

"Oh," she replied.

The two talked for a while, enjoying their time before the inevitable question would be asked.

"So, Becky. Why exactly did you stop by?" Alice asked, curious. She had wondered why her friend would stop by her house in the first place. Becky's shoulders slumped, her expression downcast.

"Look, Alice, about the tea party…"

"What about it?" She wondered, confused by her friend's response. She had a wonderful time at the party, despite being surrounded by two of Gotham's most famous rogues. Jervis was nice as well, and treated her like a lady, which made her quite happy. Gentlemen were few and far between, especially in Gotham. But Jervis still surprised her at points, even if he was somewhat crazy.

Becky sighed. This was it. She mentally prepared herself to say goodbye to her friendship with the blonde. "Look, I can understand if you don't want to see me anymore. Really, I wouldn't see me anymore if I were in your shoes. And if that's how you feel about it, then I understand," she murmured, preparing herself for the sting of her friend's rejection.

Alice looked alarmed. 'What? No! That's not what I meant at all, Becky," she cried, grabbing her friend into a hug. "I just meant that I was worried about you. That's all."

Becky blinked. She wasn't…. being cast aside? They were still…friends? She summed up all her feelings in one magnificent word. "Huh?"

Alice smiled. "But of course I would be worried! I hadn't seen you in a week, and in Gotham, that's a long time to be missing."

"Oh," Becky relaxed, glad that Alice was still her friend.

Silence reigned for a little while in that house, before being ousted by Alice's words.

"Becky? Can you promise me something?"

The redhead nodded.

"Can you promise me that you won't become so entranced with him that you kill someone?"

Becky's eyebrows rose. "Of course not, Alice! I would never do that." Though her words and tone were confident, in her heart, she didn't know if she could keep that promise.

"Are you sure?" Alice replied, worry in her eyes. "I mean, I'm sure Harley Quinn didn't want to kill anyone when she first joined the Joker, but now she doesn't even bat an eyelash at death."

Becky frowned. "Alice, I'm not Harley Quinn. And Jonathan is not the Joker. He won't hurt me."

"Jonathan?" Alice questioned, wondering about that name.

"Jonathan Crane," she stated. "You know, the Scarecrow."

"Oh," Alice replied, finally getting the picture. "But why wouldn't he hurt you?"

Becky smiled, and began to tell her story to the girl, starting from the time of the Greenville attack by the Scarecrow all the way until she had accepted his offer.

"But why would he spare you? I mean, he must have gassed hundreds of people before you and not cared at all," Alice said, wondering.

Becky chuckled. "That's a question I've been asking for ages, Alice, and I still don't have an answer. Maybe he knew I wouldn't be scared of him."

"But how?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. But he never tried to fear gas me again. Sure, he had it around him, but he never used it on me again during that time."

"Hmm, that's strange," said Alice. "It's almost as if he doesn't want to. It's like he, I don't know, likes you."

Becky laughed. "A-are you sure that you haven't been spending too much time with the Hatter, Alice? Him, liking me? As if. We're just colleges, nothing more."

Alice tapped her chin. "Well, I don't know-"

"I mean, that's like saying you have a thing for the Hatter, right?" Becky laughed.

Alice nervously joined her laughter. "Y-yeah, right."

"Well, it's getting late. I have to go back to the hideout. See you soon?"

Alice nodded. "Yeah, see you soon."

With a small wave, the two parted ways for now.


	4. The Iceberg Lounge

**Hey, guys. Sorry about not updating. I've been a bit busy with preparing for my graduation from high school, as well as various tests and other projects that I've had going on, as well as a bit of writer's block. But don't worry. This story won't be done until I've said its done, and not a minute before! So, sit back and enjoy the story. By the way, most of the characters in this story, save for Crane, Harley, Ivy, and Tetch are based off their appearance in the Arkham series, just for those who don't know. I've decided this because Crane would be a bit too frightening and a bit ridiculous to go around town in his Arkham appearance, what with it being winter and all. Harley and Ivy's other costumes are a bit too slutty for my taste, and Tetch looked like a hobo in his appearances. Everyone else's costumes I've either liked or don't mind as much. **

The sun was just setting when Becky made her way back to the hideout.

She rapped twice, once, and then twice again, alerting the thug on the other side of the door that she was an ally.

Quickly, lest the Bat happened to start patrolling and happened to see their hideout, she raced inside, as the thug bolted the door.

It still surprised her sometimes that Crane had kept his word. None of the henchmen had dared touch her, for fear of what the Scarecrow would do to them if they disobeyed.

And it was little wonder. She had seen first-hand what the Scarecrow could do, and even she was sometimes frightened by what could possibly happen if she had gotten on his bad side while she was allied with him. She counted herself lucky that he didn't seem to mind her as much.

But still, she had to wonder why. Based on his interactions with her and Tetch, he was quite a recluse, and preferred it to stay that way.

She wasn't surprised to see Jonathan in his usual place, perched on a large stool in his underground lab, mixing different chemicals together and recording the results.

Becky was only allowed on one condition to enter his lab, and that was if she didn't touch or hinder his experiments, whether it be making his chemicals for the fear toxin, or testing it on the random hobo he sometimes brought in. She knew the later was wrong, but if he didn't get someone, he would have to test it either on himself or her, if he was desperate. And after her last encounter, she would rather not experience that again.

"Crane?" she said, placing a hand on his shoulder, which he reacted immediately to by nearly spraying her in the face with fear toxin.

"Becky, what have I told you about physical contact?" He growled.

"Not to try," she recalled.

He nodded, setting the toxin aside. "Now, why are you here?"

"Well, you said we would be going to the Iceberg Lounge by 7:00," she replied.

"Yes, and…"

"It's 7:00 right now."

Crane glanced at his watch with surprise, before sighing. "So it is." He turned to her. She had on her Scream costume under her grey coat with the mask slightly sticking out of her right pocket. "Everything set?"

She nodded. She had mini-fear toxin capsules in her left pocket in case of the Bat. It wouldn't last as long as the spray, but it would give them enough time to make a getaway.

"Good. Now, let's go," he said, leading her out the door towards the Iceberg Lounge.

The Iceberg Lounge was ordinarily a very high-class establishment, serving only the best of the best in return for a hefty amount of cash from their guests.

But at night, when all the wealthier guests went home, the criminals would gather together to discuss their plans, tell tales of how they (almost) killed the Bat, or just drink their troubles away.

The room was laid out in a circular plan, with tables congregating around the walls. The centermost portion of the room held a gigantic iceberg that floated lazily around the icy pond. The lights bathed the room in a soft, icy blue, with neon lights around the bar displaying the types of beer and wine available. Music radiated from the antique jukebox near the iceberg, soft jazz relaxing the criminals and getting them in the mood to talk.

Becky immediately felt like a beggar inside the palace of a king. She had never been in someplace so grand before in her life. Even the grand Solomon Wayne Courthouse was nothing compared to this place. "Are you sure I'm allowed to be here?" she asked Crane, feeling very small in comparison to this grand place.

Crane nodded. "You're fine. Most of the rogues come here." He glanced over at her. "You'll blend in perfectly."

She was about to reply when a black and red blur launched itself at Crane, screeching all the while.

"Long time, no see, Professah," Harley squealed, swinging Crane around in a death hug.

"Child, please…let me…go," Jonathan croaked, her grip around his torso squeezing the air out of his lungs. That girl had a strong grip.

"Oopsy! Sorry, Professah," she replied, smiling sheepishly as she let the older man go.

Becky felt the air knocked out of her as Harley turned and immediately pounced on her. "Hi, there!" she greeted, grinning at her new friend.

"Um…hi," Becky replied, uncertain how to react to this impromptu reaction. "Can you please put me down now?"

"Okey dokie," she sing-songed, leading her towards her table. "I'm Harley, by the way. What's your name?"

"Scream."

"Oooh, that's such a cute name," Harley squealed, nearly breaking Becky's eardrums. "You've gotta meet my friend Red. She's a riot."

"O-okay," Becky stammered, uncomfortable with the woman's energy. She wasn't used to dealing with this much energy in a single person. Even Jervis appeared calm compared to her, and he was the Mad Hatter. _If she wasn't holding onto my arm, she'd probably be bouncing off the walls like rubber_, she thought, trying to keep her balance as Harley raced across the room towards her seat.

As Harley pounced into her seat, nearly decapitating Becky with her abrupt halt, she frowned, as she saw no one in the other seat.

"Aww, I thought Red would be here," she pouted, her lower lip puckered sadly.

"Um…if you don't mind me asking, who or what is Red?" Becky asked, curious. "And is she red? Or is that just a nickname?"

Harley stared at her for a moment, before bursting out laughing. "Hahaha, no, she's not red, or, at least, her body isn't. Just her hair. That's why I call her Red. She's really Poison Ivy. Oh, look, here she comes now."

As Harley had said, a very voluptuous woman had decided to join them at their table. She looked normal, compared to some of the other rogues, except for the leaf-like patterns on her body and the greenish tint of her skin. She had on a leafy dress that looked much like a one-piece bathing suit without the straps. And, like Harley had said, she had red hair that seemed to make her head look like it had a bad fight with a flamethrower.

"Hey, Harley. Who's the new girl?" Ivy asked, her sensual voice caused many of the male patrons near her to look at her with lust positively dripping from their eyes.

"Oh, this is Scream. She's new," Harley explained, grinning at her new friend. "She came in with Professah Crane."

"Really?" said Ivy, looking at Becky with a critical eye, sizing her up.

Becky gulped. She was being assessed by one of the most infamous of the rogues, but she was also surrounded by not one, but two rogues that she had just met. If they suddenly decided they didn't want her in their group, she had no defense again them.

Ivy finally leaned back. "Hmm, you seem nice. Alright, I'll let you stay."

Becky, who had been holding her breath the entire time, let it out in one big sigh of relief. "Thanks, I guess."

As the three began to talk, Becky started to relax. Maybe they weren't so bad after all.

With Becky distracted by Harley, Crane maneuvered his way through the crowded bar towards the back. He had arranged a meeting with the Penguin to discuss weapon plans.

The Penguin was a squat, little man, with a long pointy nose that almost looked like a beak. He was dressed in a large black tuxedo in the most current fashion of the rich and famous in Gotham. A long cigarette pipe, complete with cigarette at the very tip, perked from his mouth, which was drawn in a long, low scowl at the paperwork in front of him. A long top hat graced his head, almost bigger than or equal to the height of Jervis' blue top hat. Two bodyguards flanked him, both making sure that their boss was protected at all costs.

_Not that it would matter,_ Crane thought, as he weaved his way through the throng. _The man's more likely to die from cardiovascular problems or cancer than an armed gunman._

The Penguin looked up from his paperwork as Crane's shadow, cast by the overhanging light, drifted towards him. "Well, well, if it isn't the Scarecrow, returned from 'is cornfield. Did ya finally decide to rejoin the land of the livin'?"

"Cut the pleasantries, Cobblepot," Crane barked, a scowl on his face. The Penguin was one of the many villains that tried his patience, and the less he saw of him, the better. "I only came here to get information."

Oswald smirked, letting out a small chuckle, which sounded much like the tittering of a bird. "I thought so. But ya do know that information comes at a price."

Crane smirked. "I know that." He pulled out a small briefcase, which he slid over towards the Penguin.

Cobblepot opened the case, and grinned as he saw the faces of Benjamin Franklin and his 99 twin brothers staring up at him. "Very well," the Penguin replied, pocketing the cash. "What do you wanna know?"

"Has there been any shipments coming in from ACE chemicals?"

The Penguin pursed his lips. "Hmm, one, I believe. Comin' in a month or two from now." He narrowed his eyes. He knew better than to assume Crane was just here for information. He could have gotten it just as easily from Nigma. There was another reason he was here. "But what are ya really here for, Scarecrow? Ye're not just lookin' for information, are ya?"

Jonathan smirked. Reaching behind him, he pulled out a long, metal cane, just like the model Becky was currently using. He sat it carefully down on the table. "I also want you to augment this cane with a few special gadgets."

Cobblepot picked it up, testing the feel and balance of it, before looking at Crane questionably. "What do ya need with this, Crane? This isn't yer usual style of weaponry."

Crane smiled. "It isn't. It's for someone else," he replied, his gaze leaving the Penguin and settling on Becky, who seemed to be enjoying herself with Harley and Ivy.

The Penguin followed his gaze, and burst out laughing. There had been rumors going around that a new henchgirl was in town. But now, not only had he confirmed that she was working for the Scarecrow, as was evidenced by her attire, but that she was the same, plucky girl that had Crane tied in knots about her for weeks. And judging by his slightly raised smile, he seemed to be still tied up about her. This was hysterical. He had a bet with several of the rogues on if the Scarecrow would ever find a girl that could actually stand him. And now, he was finally going to collect the money those poor suckers had bet.

Crane stared quizzically at Cobblepot. That was it. He had finally flipped. He had wondered when he would. After all, it was almost guaranteed that a rogue would go insane if they spent long enough in the business.

"Ah, I see now," the Penguin said, finally regaining his ragged, fish-smelling breathe. "You seem to have the 'ots for her, haven't ya?"

At this, Crane spit out his wine in surprise. How had he-? How did-? "She's not my girlfriend!" he sputtered, thankful that, once again, having a mask on most of his face had saved him from being humiliated because of his blushing face. The Master of Fear doesn't blush.

The Penguin chuckled, enjoying this reaction out of the Master of Fear. It was a rare thing indeed to catch Crane off-guard, nonetheless actually flustered about something. The man was very good at hiding his emotions, even without the mask. "Right, right. I believe ya," he said sarcastically, his grin stretching wider than the Grinch's.

Crane started to sag in his seat. He hated being laughed at, especially by the Penguin, who was already laughed at behind his back, and all because his new apprentice was a girl. Really, if it had been any of the regular brutes, they wouldn't have even batted an eyelash. But no, it had to be a female henchman, er henchgirl, and they all had to notice. "Please just do me this favor, Oswald, and drop it!" he hissed. If he weren't in such high position within the gallery, he would have gassed him right there and then.

The Penguin smiled sinisterly. "Very well. We won't discuss it anymore." He gave the cane to one of his numerous goons, who carried away into the shadows. "It'll be ready and dropped off at the usual place."

Crane nodded, before starting to walk away.

"Oh, and just a tip: watch yer back. Ye're not the only one who specializes in fear toxin in this city anymore," the Penguin added, before chuckling darkly as he made his way towards his room.

Crane rolled his eyes at the older man. The Penguin was getting old, and it was likely that the stress and age of his life of crime had affected his brain. Still, it would be unwise to just ignore him. The Penguin had a knack for being right, and he knew it. So, he would keep his words in mind, for now.

He wandered over to the Harley's table, going to retrieve Becky from her newfound friends.

"…And then, when all the guards were asleep, Puddin' actually snuck out of his cell, and drew faces all over them. It was hilarious! Some of the others got the same. You should have seen what he did to the Professah. He drew unicorns and rainbows all over him. You should have seen his face when he looked in the mirror. It was hysterical!" Harley finished, nearly falling off her seat as she laughed.

Crane cleared his throat.

All three turned to look at him.

"Hehheh, hi Professah," Harley nervously giggled, as she looked up at the unamused face of the Scarecrow.

"If you're quite done spilling whatever it is you two gossip about all day, I came to get Scream."

"Oh," Harley stated, before cheerfully waving goodbye to her. "Bye, Scream."

Becky nodded as she got up, waving goodbye to her new friends as she followed Crane out the door into the cold Gotham air.

Becky and Crane made their way back to their lair. Dawn was barely breaking over the horizon, and the fear of the Bat dissolved with the light, and the two found themselves relaxing, as the main cause of their anxiety had passed.

"So, what was the meeting with Cobblepot about?" Becky asked, curious. It wasn't often that Crane ever left his lair. Usually, it was to grab a bite to eat from the Mario's Pizzeria on 11th street, and that was usually takeout.

"Just information on a new chemical shipment," he replied, helping her over a tricky incline on the roof. "Nothing much."

They were silent for a while. About halfway to their destination, Crane decided he had enough silence for a bit and needed something to get his mind off of the ominous words of the Penguin.

"So," he started awkwardly, not used to starting the conversation with her. Usually, she was the one to start the conversation, most likely bored of his silence and unsociableness. "How was Harley?"

At this, Becky groaned, her fingers rubbing her temples as a throbbing headache formed from Harley's loud voice. "Never…again."

Crane chuckled. "She tends to have that effect on newcomers."

They soon came to their hideout as the goon guard opened the door for them.

Removing his hat and mask, Crane tiredly trudged down the stairs. He had not slept for three days straight, and the effort of interacting with his fellow rogues had drained him of his remaining energy.

"Are you okay, Crane?" she asked, noting the tiredness in his voice and movements. He almost seemed like he was a zombie or a robot, or worse, a zombie robot.

"I'm fine," he snapped, barely suppressing a yawn.

Becky raised an eyebrow. "Really? Because it looks to me like you're dead on your feet. Seriously, you were just about to yawn, weren't you?"

"I wasn't! And I'm fine!" Crane snarled.

"Oh yeah? When's the last time you slept?" she retorted, crossing her arms, a small smirking smile on her face.

Jonathan scowled. "It doesn't matter. It's my lair. I can do whatever I want!" he harrumphed, pushing past her as he started to enter his lab.

Becky sighed, shaking her head. "I didn't want to do this." She pasted a large, almost fake smile on her face as she started to walk away from him. "Oh well, I guess you won't get any of that delicious, energizing coffee, then."

Crane immediately froze mid-step, slowly turning to face her, his anger barely skin deep. "What…did you do…to my coffee?!" he ground out, gritting his teeth as he tried to keep himself calm. It wouldn't do to kill her. She was much too useful to just be killed over coffee. But it was very, _very_ tempting.

Becky just continued to grin. Revenge was sweet! "Oh, wouldn't you like to know?"

"Tell me where it is!" Crane blurted out, his right eye starting to twitch.

Scream was enjoying every minute of this. "Only if you take a break and sleep," she replied.

"No!"

Becky barely contained a giggle. "Then I guess you won't be seeing your coffeemaker…. ever…. again."

Crane looked like his head was about to explode. He didn't like having to make deals to save his stuff. It was incredibly demeaning for him. But he knew that he couldn't win this one. He could make no progress in his projects without a generous amount of coffee and she had hidden the coffeemaker. And knowing her knack for hiding things and finding hiding places from him, he could probably kiss the machine goodbye if he didn't agree to her demands.

He finally sighed, giving in. "Fine. One hour."

"8 hours," she replied.

"3 hours," he retorted.

"5 hours, and that's my final offer," Becky stated, crossing his arms.

Crane gauged her price. Coffeemaker or sleep? He made his choice. "Fine. But at least get some sleep, too. Your first heist is tomorrow."

Becky nodded. "Alright then. We have a deal."

As Jonathan reluctantly trudged off to his room, Becky couldn't help but pump her fist in victory. It was rare when she could convince him to take a break from his work, and she would take advantage of it.

As she flopped on the sofa, sending the kitten jumping onto the coffee table as she settled herself on the couch, which was the only other place to rest. She wouldn't dare sleep near Crane. That…would just be weird. So she settled on the couch, pulling the blanket over her legs as she settled for a short rest. She knew tonight would be a big night.

For tonight would be the first heist as Scream, and the first step in her new life of crime with the Scarecrow


	5. The First Heist

**Hey, guys. I'm so glad I am a senior this year. I get to get out early. Lucky me. And lucky you, too, because this means that I'll be updating more frequently. I also want to thank you guys for all the reviews and views you've been giving me. It really means a lot to me that you love this story so much. So, without further ado, onwards with the story. **

Night had started to fall as the Scarecrow's henchmen assembled in a quiet corridor of the warehouse. Their boss had briefed them of a heist meeting to plan for their next bounty. In front of them, on a big projector screen, were the blueprints for their latest crime. Several dots lead to the center, their goal, and a vault full of money from the First National Gotham bank.

The goons, who had been waiting patiently for their boss to arrive, were whispering to each other.

"Why do ya think the boss is taking so long?" Goon 1 asked the one sitting beside him.

"I dunno, man," Goon 2 replied, shrugging his shoulders. "The boss is usually on time for these things."

"Maybe it has something to do with the new chick that he brought in two weeks ago," Goon 3 said.

"You really think so, man?" Goon 1 questioned, looking around to make sure that Crane was nowhere to be found. If he caught them…. he really didn't want to even think about that.

"Yeah. Why else would he be late? The boss' never late," Goon 3 replied, a lecherous grin on his face. "I bet he's doing her right now."

"You really think so? I thought he wasn't into that sort of stuff. I mean, if he were, why wouldn't he do Poison Ivy? Heck, I would, if I were 'im." Goon 4 asked.

While they were conversing, the Scarecrow had decided to enter at that moment. He had overhead everything the goons had said and was seething with anger. How dare they! He wasn't "doing" Becky or anything like that. The very thought, although quite lovely, was something that he would never act upon himself and would try earnestly to banish from his mind. He was above such base primitive urges, and he knew that she felt the same.

He cleared his throat. The goons instantly hushed, with nary a whisper from them. "I do hope you are not talking about who I think you're talking about. Otherwise, I know a few new test subjects that are going to be a delightful edition to my collection of screams I've heard over the years."

The goons frantically shook their heads, their faces paling at the thought.

Crane grinned. "Good. And now that I have your attention, let's review the plan."

As the Scarecrow carefully explained the plan to his minions, Becky couldn't help but feel nervous and conflicted as she stood off to the side. On one hand, she was excited to be going out in her very first act as the partner of the Scarecrow. And it was for that very reason that she was scared out of her mind.

_Should I really do this?_ She pondered, as she listened to his instructions to the goons. _I mean, once I do this, I can't go back._

**_But then again, it could be a lot of fun, _**another side of her thought. **_Besides, who's going to make sure that Jon doesn't do anything drastic, like killing people?_**

She looked down. _Well, I guess._

By this time, she had resumed listening to the rest of his speech.

"…And then we make off with the loot. Now, any questions?"

The goons shook their heads. They didn't need to hear it again.

The Scarecrow smirked. It was about time he got something through their thick skulls. "Well then, get ready. We'll be hitting the target in 2 hours. Dismissed."

The goons quickly fled; glad to get out of his lecture and away from his glaring gaze. They were probably not going to get out of this alive, but anything would be better than having the Grinch-like grin of the Scarecrow's face following them as they sat, like cornered rabbits, in the seats.

Crane just laughed. It felt good to scare them away like that. Nothing beat the sounds of screams.

But as he turned to Becky, he could think of one that did. "Have you got your supplies?"

She nodded, though the act was quite stiff and fast, like a frightened mouse. He noted that she seemed to be on edge about the situation.

"Nervous?" he asked, a small, sly smile lighting his lips.

"A…a little," she replied, looking away from him. She hated to reveal that she was nervous and afraid to him, for she feared he would take advantage of that fact and probably try to scare her more. He seemed to enjoy doing that to every other citizen of Gotham and even his own goons. The only ones he probably could never scare, besides her, was the Joker himself, and that's because he was too insane to fear the Scarecrow

But he surprised her by just chuckling. "You'll do fine. Besides, if you're lucky, you won't even have to use your fear gas."

"But don't you usually gas people on your raids?" she asked, confused. In all the reports she had read about the Scarecrow, he seemed to enjoy using his fear gas whenever possible on his heists. Now that he told her they might not scare anybody, a little bit of her fear was relieved.

"Usually, but not this time. Not many people go to the bank this late, so the only people we will have to worry about are the guards." Jonathan replied, pulling on his mask and hat. "Ready?"

She nodded, pulling on her mask as they navigated the dark, lamp lit streets of Gotham.

The Gotham National Bank was one of the many banks that Gotham seemed to develop like a rash around its borders. It was right on the line between the Amusement Mile and the Industrial District, which sometimes made it a prime target for many of the up-and-coming super villains and the Joker's new goons, who made the entire Industrial District his home.

As they had planned, the henchmen entered the building first, providing a distraction for the guards to chase as Scream and Scarecrow made their way towards the central vault of the bank.

The bank wasn't as grand as the one near some of the other districts, like the Bowery and Sheldon Park's one, but it did its job: gathering money and putting it into a vault just ripe for the picking by the many rogues who frequented the place.

Scream and Scarecrow navigated the winding halls, looking for the vault of money in the back of the building. Why it was in the back and not in the front like the other vaults, they didn't know, but it was probably to fake out the other criminals into attacking the fake vault in the front, which was quite smart, seeing as the bank was frequented by the rogues like flies to a dead carcass.

This was why Scarecrow had chosen this spot. It was not as difficult as robbing the other banks in the inner city, where there was more of a chance to get nabbed by the Bat, but still difficult enough to give his new partner a taste of what she would experience in the future. If she did well, he would possibly up the challenge, such as a more difficult place to rob with more security. It helped that she wasn't well known yet like he was, which allowed her to go in and out without being suspected.

They spotted some leftover guards guarding the real vault and immediately covered against the wall.

"What now, Scarecrow?" she whispered quietly, unsure of a clear way around the guards without the alarm going off. Her cane would give away her presence if she was going to sneak up on them, and she couldn't throw her cane to the side to distract them, as she needed it to keep her balance, otherwise she would fall over.

Putting a finger to his mouth, Scarecrow's voice barely in a whisper. "Watch," he hissed, as he carefully flicked a mini-fear bomb at them.

It exploded; causing the guards to fire off their guns as the smoke bomb mixed with the fear toxin caused them to lose their vision, although the bullets never hit anything but the empty wall. They started to hack and wheeze, before bolting for their lives from their imaginary demons.

As the gas cloud dissipated, the duo soon found themselves in front of the vault.

"Scream, the TNT, if you please."

She nodded, obediently handing him the explosives as he set the timer, both of them covering their ears and ducking as the explosion shot the vault door right into the back wall.

The two walked in, fully expecting a boatload of cash.

They got a boatload of cash, but they also found one particularly smug Joker along with it, sitting on a cash throne that he had made on top of the stack of money. He wore his usual purple, tail coated three-piece suit, with his usual drooping flower toxin sprayer and his green bowtie that seemed to match the color of his hair, his lipstick red lips constantly curled into a leering grin.

"What the-? Joker! What on earth are you doing here?" The Scarecrow squawked, flabbergasted as to how the clown got into the vault with no explosive entrance in the first place.

The Joker just manically giggled. "Oh, don't look so surprised, Scary. Anyone can just get in the vault if they want it badly enough. I just happened to use the front entrance," the clown laughed, tickled pink by the expressions of Scarecrow trying to grasp how he got in. Springing to his feet, he leaped off of his makeshift throne of money, startling Becky as she had been gathering money into her large purse.

"Oooh, and who's the new girl? Another one of your test subjects? Or did the good ol' Hatter do you a favor and brainwash her?" Joker laughed, pulling her so she was shoulder to shoulder with him, his arms locked around her chest.

Becky shivered. She couldn't believe she was this close to Gotham's most dangerous rogue. Almost no one was this close to pure, unadulterated evil than the clown was. Even Scarecrow, Gotham's most feared villain, didn't feel as sick and wrong as the Joker. Even his skin, buried beneath his multi-piece suit, radiated coldness and decay, felt like a cold, rotting corpse.

"Let her go, Joker! She's not yours to toy with," Jonathan hissed, his hand reaching for the toxin. She was his apprentice, his Mistress of Fear, and he wasn't going to let Joker's bloody, filthy hands taint her anymore. Who knew what the clown got into? Even Crane would rather not think about it.

"Aww, you're no fun, Scary. Always so grim and serious. Seriously, you have a need for a smile as much as Batsy does," the Joker giggled, as Becky began to struggle against his icy grip.

Becky felt herself beginning to panic. The two rogues were currently in a deadlock, and she didn't know who would be the first to act. It didn't help that Joker's hand started to drift towards her lower body.

"Last warning, clown!" Jonathan roared, his spray can level with the Joker's face, right at the tip of his pointy nose. He could see the clown trying to cope a feel, and he was livid with rage. No one touched his Becky! No one! Not the henchmen, not the clown, nobody!

The Joker cackled. "Really, Scary? Are you really going to try it with your girlfriend right there?"

With no second thoughts or "She's not my girlfriend" Jonathan sprayed the Joker in the face, emptying the whole flask in the Joker's face.

"Run!" The Scarecrow bellowed, pushing the Joker down as he picked Becky up bridal-style and raced as fast as he could from the rapidly recovering Joker, leaving her cane behind in the rush to escape.

Becky was stark still with shock. She was like a shell, her mouth still open in a silent scream.

Jonathan didn't have time to help her recover from shock. He had spotted a bomb just outside the bank and knew he had only a few seconds to navigate the halls towards the front door and freedom. His body was filled with adrenaline, propelling him and Becky through the hallways. He jumped over the bodies of his dead henchmen, but they didn't matter to him right now. They were expendable, and he could easily hire new ones from the streets. All that mattered was getting him and Becky through those double doors.

Jonathan dove towards the ground as an explosion rocketed him through the door and into a lamppost, causing him to drop Becky, who fell limply onto the concrete.

The Scarecrow shook his head, prying himself out of the dent he had made in the metal beam. He pulled off his mask, sweeping a hand across his brow. He pulled it back to find blood running through his fingers. His forehead was coated with blood, and he felt the objects in front of his vision swirl, before he collapsed onto the ground.

Becky, meanwhile, had recovered from her shock and had shaken herself awake from her stupor, and had crawled her way towards the Scarecrow's side.

Seeing the wounds on Jonathan's head, Becky immediately grabbed her purse, pulling out her phone as she quickly dialed a number.

"Alice? It's Becky. You need to get here right now! It's Jonathan! He's really hurt."

She was barely conscious as she saw what looked like headlights before collapsing on top of the Scarecrow's chest.


	6. TLC

**Thank you all for your reviews of this series. It means a lot to me that you guys love this story so much. Really, it does. And if you have any questions about the stories or tips to help me write better, feel free to leave a review. I'm open to suggestion and questions. **

"Jon…"

"Jon…than"

Blurry images greeted Crane's eyes as he struggled to focus on the shapes in front of him.

"Jonathan…Jonathan…"

As his vision cleared up, he was surprised to find both Tetch and Becky leaning over him, trying to shake him awake.

"Ugh! Tetch? Becky?" he said drowsily, rubbing his eyes. He tried to sit up, only to wince in pain as his neck erupted into a thousand, needle-like pains near his vertebrae. He decided wisely to lie back down. "What happened? Where am I?"

"Oh, thank goodness, Jonathan. W-we thought you would never wake up." Jervis answered, his hands wringing nervously as he talked, trying to calm himself down.

"Y-Yeah, we were getting worried," Becky added, a bit reluctant to admit that she had cared enough to worry about his well-being. If she admitted to herself that she cared for him was starting towards territory that, quite honestly, frightened her.

The two nearly jumped out of their skin as a new, gruffer voice spoke up. "Well, it's about time you woke up." The man who the voice belonged to stepped out of the shadows, his face wrapped in bandages so that you couldn't see his face. He had on a grey, tight-fitting sweater and black pants. A surgical mask was wrapped around his neck, coated with blood, which also coated the surgical gloves that he wore as well.

Crane, however, recognized the voice instantly. "My guess I owe you a favor for saving my life and not calling the bat, Thomas," Jonathan grumbled, annoyed that someone now owed him a favor for some minor concussion he may have had. He had survived far worse at the hands of the Bat and could take care of himself. He didn't need anyone's help.

Elliot chuckled. "Not quite, Professor. You have Becky to thank for that. If she hadn't called her friend, then you probably wouldn't be alive by now."

Jonathan tried to turn his head to look at her, and hissed through his teeth as the needle-like pain returned.

"I'd suggest that you don't move your head for awhile, Professor. Your neck was cracked in several places, and so was you skull. I had to do a bit of surgery to get it back in place, as well as plaster the cracks back together. Also, I wouldn't suggest trying to go back to the lab until tomorrow."

"And why not?" Crane snapped, irritated at this setback. He hated being away from his lab, where his entire batch of toxin was sitting there, unguarded. He just knew that someone would break in at the exact moment he was down and would steal his entire supply. And a few hours were all some of them needed to pick the lock, get inside, find his lab, and steal everything in sight.

"I've seen how you work, Professor. And I'm surprised it's taken this long for problems to arise," Hush replied, a smirk on his face as he wandered back to his own lab.

Crane sighed. Hush had already wandered away to go back to his line of work: removing faces from the bodies of different people he had killed. While he wasn't fond of Hush's line of work, he did respect how effective it worked. He had taught him well.

Not many people knew that the Scarecrow had coined the name of Thomas Elliot's moniker, or that he had taught Hush most of what he knew about fear. In a way, he and Becky were on the same level, both being students he had taught and both now being criminals. However, Hush was much messier with his line of work. The one time Becky had killed a man, she had done it quietly and quickly, making detection, unless somewhere nearby, something that most people wouldn't notice. Hush's victims could be determined miles away from him, and could immediately be linked back to him if he was at large. And there was also the matter of the people he brought in for the more extensive surgery. Jonathan would rather keep his victims' bodies; on the off chance he had them, as far away from his lair as possible. He knew from experience that blood didn't come out of carpets easily.

By this time, Tetch had already fled from the hideout, not willing to stay more than he had to in the newer rogue's lair, undoubtedly frightened by Hush's gory handiwork, leaving only Becky brave enough to remain.

"My guess I have you to thank for saving my life, Becky, although I have to wonder why you would. Any other person would have left me for dead," Jonathan said, resigning himself to the fact that he would not be moving for a while. By his estimation, it would take about a day for him to recover enough to attempt to move his head, and that would just be enough to make it back to his hideout. But even then, it would take a bit of disguise to get out of Park Row, where Hush's hideout was located, and to the Amusement Mile. Park Row didn't have many places to hide, and it was one of the places that Batman and his robins patrolled most often, so daylight had to be his ally.

Then there was also Becky, who he would have to support as she walked. He just hoped that he could find something suitable for her to support herself so that she wouldn't have to always lean on him, as that would look a tab suspicious to the people walking by.

Becky looked away from him, unable to meet his eyes. "Well, I-I don't know, really. I guess it's because, well, you saved my life there with the Joker. I mean, I couldn't just let you die like that, right?"

Crane was silent for some time, mulling over her words.

"Crane?" she asked, uncomfortable with his prolonged silence unless he was concentrating on his experiments, which he wasn't, at the moment, unless it was an experiment with her patience.

"You…are quite an anomaly, Becky. You don't act like anyone else I've ever met. You've never been scared of me, you've actually sprayed me in the face with my own toxin-which is quite unexpected, by the way-and not only did you actually go along with me to the heist, but you actually saved me from dying from a cracked skull," Jonathan said quietly, barely loud enough for Becky to hear.

"Yeah, so what? You saved me from being molested by the Joker. I owed you," she responded.

"What about the book you gave me? You didn't have to get me anything, and if you hated me as much as you claimed, then why get me a gift?" he responded, testing her. He had a sneaking suspicion that she was hiding her feelings from him, which only made him try to dig deeper to discover what lay behind her guarded persona.

Becky was speechless. She didn't know how to counter that. Unwilling to show him what she really felt, she replied angrily, "Well, what about you? You've stalked me off and on for the past five years, not to mention during our interactions with each other in the University, you've never once sprayed me with fear toxin, even though you had plenty of chances to do so. And not only that, but you were the one to actually gas the Joker to save my life, as well as getting angry that he was touching me. Explain that to me, Sherlock!"

Jonathan's grin flipped into a frown. He had no idea what to say to that. Everything she said was true. He hadn't used the toxin on her like almost all his other victims, even though he had plenty of chances when she came for help on homework or during her time as his assistant, which often left only himself and her in the classroom, ripe for the picking to gas her and find out her latest fears. Not to mention he had gotten her a kitten and saved her life from the Joker, as the aching pain in his head and neck wouldn't be there if not for him stopping to pick her up when the Joker had fallen.

He finally replied after a few minutes of thinking things over. "I wanted to observe you, Becky. I wanted to see how you had such resolve to not be afraid of me, and I wanted to see what it would take to break you, as my past attempt had failed miserably. I left everything I could to find out more, even disguising myself as a professor to find out. It was lucky for me that you came to my place, and not me to yours, as that would have probably caught Batman's attention."

Becky nodded. "Okay, I get that. But what about the other things, like the kitten, saving my life, and not spraying me when you had the chance? Which I still don't understand, by the way. Wouldn't breaking me be easier if you had gassed me than if you had not?"

The Scarecrow chuckled. "Maybe, but where's the fun in that?" He winced as he shifted his head to the side to look at her from her perch on the seat she had pulled up. " I enjoy a good challenge when it comes around. Heck, most of the rogues do. Why do you think they challenge Batman all the time? Masochism?"

She shrugged. "I guess you've got a point." Inside, she was slightly flattered by him referring to her as a challenge. She thought she was fairly simple to figure out. She was a woman with cerebral palsy that happened to get picked on quite often. She thought her fears were quite reasonable and predictable. But for the Master of Fear to have trouble reading what she feared was quite a compliment, coming from him. "Okay, but what saving me from the Joker?"

He looked at her like she was slightly crazy, which was ironic since he was listed as insane and evil. "Do you have such little faith in me that I wouldn't try to get you away from the Joker? Please. I've worked at Arkham for a few years while I was a professor, and I had gotten a chance to interrogate him. He's killed thousands of people over the years he's been around, not to mention that he has a very perverted personality that often borders bisexuality. And believe me, you do not want to end up like Harley. The poor girl's brains have been scrambled by him to the point of no return."

Becky winced as she remembered the file she had found on the Joker. She suddenly felt sorry for the girl. She couldn't imagine what it was like to have to deal with him day in and day out, and yet still love him in return. At least Jonathan never treated her like that. She didn't know what she would do if she was put into that situation. Not to mention the Joker would most likely kill her because of her disease, as she had a hard time keeping up. "Alright, I get your point. But what about the kitten?"

Scarecrow shrugged. "I have no idea. It was more of whim than anything. I was trying to get you a puppy. But it was Christmas Eve and they were all sold out. So, I got you a kitten instead."

"Aha! So you do care!" Becky crowed, finally catching him. She had a hunch that there was more to his choosing her than just because she was his equal. Everything he had done for her testified against him doing this just for the fear of someone else getting her.

"Perhaps." He mused. "But then again, so do you, when you get right down to it."

"Maybe," she sighed, turning away, trying to hide her blush, not noticing that Crane was blushing as well. Trying to get her mind off of him and his words, she looked out one of the partially boarded up window. Outside, she could see a few people hurrying towards their destination.

He decided to go to a different subject. "So, how did you get a hold of my fear toxin before we met again? I recall having seen it around the crime scene near the lair," he replied, watching with delight as she stiffened.

"H-How did you know?" she asked, uncertainty in her voice. Although she did care a little bit for him, she still knew that he couldn't be trusted, and after everything that had happened to her, her fears were well founded. The only thing she could trust him with was not to harm her. Everything else she guarded, and would believe his words with a grain of salt.

He chuckled. "I have my ways, Miss Albright."

She winced. She really didn't want to answer that question. But she knew she had to if he was ever going to drop the questions about that particular day. "I…I found it in your bag with the Mistress of Fear costume."

He smirked. He had a feeling that she had taken it that particular day, especially when he had retrieved the bag only to find the costume and no fear toxin. "So you decided to take it?" He laughed. "I'm not surprised. It seems you were drawn to the power even when we did meet, even if you hid it quite well. But then again, it's a hard temptation to resist, isn't it?"

Becky nodded. "Yeah, I guess you could say that." She returned to her chair beside the bed, grabbing onto the walls to keep her balance, as she didn't have her cane to steady herself. "By the way, you owe me a cane once we get back to the hideout."

He nodded, wincing as he did so. "I have one ordered from the Penguin. It should be here in a day or two."

"I was wondering what you were doing over there," she said. "Thanks."

He chuckled, closing his eyes as he started to drift to sleep. While normally he would not let himself fall asleep, he knew, by common sense and his knowledge of Psychology, that the body needed rest to get better. And he did want to sit up and walk, thank you very much.

Becky couldn't help the rueful smile as she watched him sleep. When he was asleep, he didn't seem to feel like the Scarecrow anymore, but just Jonathan Crane, the man who rarely appeared except to her.

It was strange. Before she had known him, she thought the Scarecrow was all he was. But now, after their confessions to each other, she really didn't know anymore.

She sighed, before suddenly nodding off on the chair, her head resting across the desk as her feet curled up into the cushion.

Hush, seeing the two asleep, gently lifted Becky up and placed her on the right side of the bed, on top of the covers.

Normally, he could care less about the girl, but the Professor seemed to trust her, so he decided he would do her a favor or two, for the sake of his old friend. _Besides, _he thought, _it's quite an uncomfortable position to lie on the chair._

Turning out the lights in the room, he quietly retreated back into his lab, where his ghastly project awaited his return.


	7. One of these things is not like the rest

**Edit: Sorry about the author's note chapter previously. I'm still trying to figure out how to work with this type of system and sometimes it can royally screw me over. I apologize for the delay. I will be going on a trip in two days so I won't be updating for about a month. Sorry for the inconvenience. Onto the story!**

A lone henchman scurried into the chamber, hoping that he wasn't going to be unfortunate enough to disturb the Mistress. She hated that, and what she hated; she did away with, such as the first goon who had disobeyed her commands. He didn't know exactly what happened to him, but he had a haunted look in his eye, and his skin was cut open in many different places, with something that looked suspiciously like scales on them.

The mysterious woman, whose face was constantly cloaked in shadows, was waiting for him.

"Mistress, we found the one you were looking for," he said, wringing his hands together nervously.

The woman smiled. "Good, bring him in."

The man nodded, uttering a silent sigh of relief as he scurried out through the doors. Soon, two other henchmen dragged a struggling, bedraggled Riddler into the room, dumping him unceremoniously at their Mistress' feet.

The man certainly looked worn out. He had a light, wiry build, and his usually bright-green suit was stained with dirt. His dark pants had a few holes in them, blood trickling out of them. His glasses were bent and crooked on his nose as he tried to adjust them, then proceeded to brush off the dirt on his suit jacket. His hat was missing, leaving light brown hair standing straight up in a cowlick. Several bruises and a black eye covered his face, leaving it looking a little like a bruised blueberry.

"Well, that was quite a rude entrance. I'd be sure to complain to the manager, if I wasn't in front of her myself," he quipped, grabbing his cane as he struggled to his feet.

She smirked. Despite his beating, he still seemed to be quite as obnoxious as usual. "Hello to you too, Edward. It's about time I finally found you. You were quite difficult to track down. It took us quite a few months to finally find your hideout, although the big question mark was a bit of a dead giveaway."

The Riddler chuckled. "I take pride in it, Miss Fri—" he was suddenly yanked forward by the woman, her firm grip on his purple, question mark tie choking his words.

"I prefer you leave off that name, Edward. Or Mr. Dormouse might just not have a brain to work with once all is said and done," she hissed, before she let go of his tie.

Edward coughed, trying to regain his breath as he scowled. "I would prefer you left off that ridiculous nickname. It's bad enough Tetch uses it all the time. I would rather not want it to become a name I am associated with."

She snickered. "Very well, Edward. But I would like it if you didn't call me by my real name. I prefer to remain…anonymous for the time being."

He nodded. "Of course. Now then, why exactly did you decide to interrupt my work? I was just planning a magnificent trap for the Bat when your goons decided to interrupt my planning time with their annoying chatter and clumsy feet, as well as their insistence that I come with them immediately."

The woman turned away. "I need you to help me with a… project that I am working on."

"And my guess you don't need any help with any of your unorthodox experiments on the mindless drones here, do you?"

She smirked, shaking her head. "No, I need you for something else than that."

"And let me guess, I'm the only one that can help you with this," he replied, beginning to laugh. Usually, he would have said one of his famous riddles by now, but the close call with his tie made him think twice. The woman was not someone he could mess with and get away with, and something told him that she was much, MUCH worse than most of the rogues, save for the Joker, with her methods of torture if she found him not obeying her orders.

"Unfortunately," she hissed through her teeth, a scowl on her face. The Riddler was the last person she would want to have help her, or even to interact with, but she couldn't trust the buffoons to get the job done correctly, and she was much too busy to do it herself, not to mention the increased chances of getting caught. The Riddler, however, would get in and out without being caught. And if he was, then she could always make sure he didn't squeal to the authorities about whom he was contracted to work for.

He smirked. "I thought so." He leaned on his cane, stopping it with his foot so that he wouldn't trip and make a fool of himself. He took pride in his appearance, and wanted everything to be absolutely perfect.

She nodded. "Of course. I wouldn't even think about not repaying the World's smartest man for doing some tiny favors for me."

The Riddler chuckled. "While I appreciate the flattery, you'll have to do better than that. What exactly can you offer me that would make me want to work with you?"

The woman smiled. "How about information?"

The Riddler laughed. "Oh, please, like you could get information I don't already know? I'm the Riddler, for Pete's sake. I know everything that goes on in Gotham and in the surrounding area. I know every peep, every line of gossip, everything. Heck, I even know the Bat's secret identity. So, what could you possibly offer me that would even peek my interest?"

"How about the Scarecrow's mysterious new female accomplice?"

Edward laughed, nearly falling over at the hysterical idea. "Ohohoho, that's a good one. His new female partner? That's rich! I'm not sure if you know this, but Crane's probably as asexual as a flatworm. I mean, he hasn't ever looked at a woman that way, and he is absolutely disgusted by Poison Ivy. I mean, the odds of that happening are a billion to one. W-What makes you think that he would actually even try?"

The woman scowled, and kicked the cane out of the Riddler's hand, causing him to fall flat on his face. "If you recall, he worked with me once."

Edward rubbed his head, sitting up. "Yes, but then you were the reason he stopped trusting people in general."

She scowled. "Maybe."

The Riddler grinned. "And besides, this really is quite impossible. There's no way he could trust someone like that again."

"Very well. I'll show you," she replied, tapping on the keyboard of the computer and pulling up several videos of the Scarecrow training Becky.

Edward's eyes widened. He didn't know Crane had an accomplice working with him. Oh, sometimes he did team up, but that was usually with the Hatter or Hush, the only two who he had ever called friends, in a sense. But he had never teamed up with a woman before. He saw how they interacted on the screens, and to his amazement, the Scarecrow seemed to trust her greatly with his secrets. This was very new, and very abnormal for someone like the Scarecrow, who loved his work and alone time like it was his wife. "Interesting. But you'll need something really juicy to get me to agree to all of your demands.

The woman rolled her eyes. "Oh, very well. How much do you know about the woman named Rebecca Albright?"

And with that single sentence, the Riddler took her bait hook, line and sinker.

Batman glided down from his perch on a gargoyle, angling his flight towards the location of the bright spotlight of the smaller, more portable bat signal the police had wired to one of their trucks.

Commissioner Gordon had installed this particular bat signal for a specific purpose: to alert Batman of the location of crime that the Rogue's gallery had committed, especially with the Joker involved. Most of the work, such as rounding up some thugs and drug rings, Batman left to the police, as that was their job and it was something they could handle. But things like the Joker and the Scarecrow they left to him, as it was much too dangerous to all involved if they didn't have Batman's help in rounding them up. Otherwise, the force would lose too many officers to cope.

They were thankful for Batman, despite his ways. He helped them round up the criminals that would otherwise be very difficult to bring in, as well as keeping casualties to a minimum.

As he landed one of the police officers, Officer Violet Montoya, he recalled, approached him. "Batman, thank goodness you came."

"What seems to be the problem, Officer?" he drawled, as he walked towards the burnt-up crust of the bank building that the Scarecrow had tried to rob.

It wasn't unusual for Crane to rob banks. Most of the Rogues started out robbing banks, using anything they could manage to get as much money as possible. They sometimes, when times were desperate, go back to robbing banks, with varying successes. It seemed that the Scarecrow was doing just that, regardless of the danger that he risked with trying to rob a bank on the border of the Joker's territory.

"Scarecrow and Joker had both decided to rob the place. My guess there was a brief scuffle before the Joker's bomb went off, and Scarecrow ran while the Joker was recovering from the fear toxin. We managed to capture the Joker, but Crane's nowhere to be found."

Batman silently waited for her to continue as he scanned the area with his Bat-vision. He picked up several DNA prints that belonged to the Joker and Scarecrow around the crime scene, and could tell from the bloodstains outside and on the pole where Scarecrow had landed when the bomb went off. The Dark Knight doubted he would be a threat for a while, as he would have to stay in one place for a few days or so to heal enough to move.

"We found four dead bodies, all of them Scarecrow's minions," she said, following him quickly as he hastened his pace around the bank.

"The Joker must have come here alone," he said, turning off his Bat-vision as the morning sun started to appear above the clouds. It wasn't uncommon for the Joker to kill everyone in sight when he went on a crime spree. "Was there any evidence of the crime?"

She nodded. "Yes. All of it is linked to either Joker or the Scarecrow. All except one," she replied, handing him a large evidence bag with a metal cane inside. "We found this at the crime scene near the fear toxin. We have no idea who this belongs to, and there is no DNA matching either criminal to this thing."

Batman examined it, taking it out of the evidence bag to search for any particular marks to identify the identity of its owner. To his disappointment, there was none to be found. And there were hundreds of canes like this model. All that was left was to go through the police database and sort through anyone who would be the most likely suspect. Hopefully, he could locate either the victim or accessory to Scarecrow's crime before he or she were either killed or coerced into another crime.

"Good work, Officer. You seem to have a fine memory for details," he complimented, stashing the cane into his bat belt.

"Thanks. I'm sure you do, too, Bat-" she stopped as she turned, suddenly finding himself alone.


	8. Friend

**Hey, guys, guess who's back? I had a great vacation and plenty of time to think about what's going to happen next in my story. Thanks to all you who commented to me, and continue to review. Just so you know, this work is just for you guys, not for some review count, so even if you do or don't, you'll still have fresh chapters from yours truly. I hope you enjoy this chapter and stay tuned for more. **

Becky slowly opened her eyes as the bright sunlight filtered in through the cracks in the barricade, irritating her eyes with its bright glare. She silently yawned, trying to stretch her arms, only to find them pinned at her sides.

This instantly awakened her, her eyes slowly trailing to see a pair of arms wrapped around her stomach. She instantly stiffened in fear, causing the unknown cuddler to shuffle a bit closer to her, his head nestling into the crook of her neck, peacefully snoring. She slowly turned her head to see Jonathan's face resting on her shoulder, oblivious to everything around him as he slept soundly for the first time in years, his breath ruffling her curly, red hair.

Much of the reason why the Scarecrow always seemed to stay awake was because he was plagued by awful nightmares of his childhood, constantly tortured at the hands of his Granny and the bullies. These nightmares would often make him flail and scream, instantly waking Becky up and, in turn, helping her to wake him up so he would stop screaming.

So it was very surprising that he was sound asleep, all thanks to her actually sleeping beside him, or at least in the same room as him. She blushed a deep red at that thought, her face almost matching the shade of her maroon hair. She was so surprised by his unconscious physical contact with her that she let out a squeak.

This caused Crane to immediately open his eyes, drowsily muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like "teddy bear", before he realized just how close he was to his partner-in-crime.

With a yelp, he launched himself backwards, sending him falling off the bed and onto the hard floor.

"What the heck, Jon?" Becky shouted, as she crawled across the cover to check and see that he didn't break his neck…again. Crane might have an aneurism if he had to stay cooped up in Hush's tiny apartment for another night.

"Funny, you took the words right out of my mouth," he said snarkily, pushing himself off the ground, his neck giving a few pops as he adjusted it. He really hoped he hadn't cracked it again. He didn't want to stay here any longer than he had to. "And I should be asking you why you decided to sleep in the bed with me, of all places?"

"How on earth am I supposed to know that?" She snapped. "Besides, what about you clinging to me like a koala?"

"What? That's ridiculous!" he cried, denying her claims. The Master of Fear didn't cuddle in his sleep. And he certainly didn't cuddle with someone he may or may not have taken a liking to. That was just not rational to him.

"Your head was resting on my shoulder!" she shouted, flinging her arms into the air.

"It was not!"

"It was so! Your breath was ruffling my hair!"

"Was not!"

"Was so!"

"Was not!

"Was so!

"Was not!"

As they were childishly arguing, Hush happened to be admiring his collection of 'faces' that he had put together, adding another one to his collection that he had pulled off his latest victim. He was just about to take one out when he heard the yelling match from across the other side of the room, through the doors he had shut behind him. He growled, annoyed. He ripped a steel pipe out of the wall, hoping to bang it to get their attention.

He banged it several times, but the noise couldn't be heard over the din of their yells. Hush was surprised the police hadn't heard them, with all the noise they were making.

As he came through the door, he found them both in each others faces, with Crane bent slightly down to look into Becky's eyes as Becky was staring up into his. Both were yelling at the top of their lungs.

Hush was taken by complete surprise, and accidentally blurted out, "Oh, for the love of Batman, just kiss and get it over with," he shouted over them.

"Shut up!" they both shouted, turning on him as one, before looking at each other in surprise.

Hush blinked. _Wow, I had no idea that this would happen, _he thought, stunned. Crane had never allowed himself to get physically close to anyone, and usually preferred people at least 3-4 feet away from him at all times. But here they were, heads practically butting each other as they argued over who was right. He would have been laughing, if he weren't so shocked.

Jonathan finally scoffed, throwing his hands in the air. "That's it! I'm going out!" he shouted, storming out of the room, opening the door to go outside.

"Hey!" she yelled, nearly stumbling before grasping onto the wall for support. "Where are you going?"

"I'm getting a drink!" he replied snappily, slamming the door in her face.

"Yeah, well, I hope you get caught," she added darkly, glaring at the door before giving it a slight kick with her foot.

She turned to find Hush watching her. "What do you want, Hush?" she asked, tiredly. The screaming match with Crane had tuckered her out, and she wasn't ready to deal with the backlash from him.

"I, um, was just going to say that I found a temporary replacement for your cane," he replied, quickly holding out the crude pipe that he had tried to shape into a cane, with limited success, hoping the gift would pacify her rage

It seemed to work as Becky smiled, taking the pipe from his hands as she recovered her balance and pushed away from the wall. "Thanks."

While the pipe wasn't much, it would help her to get back home in one piece without having to lean on Crane for support, which both would find most uncomfortable.

He chuckled. "It's nothing much. Professor Crane seems to trust you. For me, and practically everybody else, that's an impossibility."

"Why do you say that?" Becky questioned, her anger with Crane being drowned by her insatiable curiosity. She had assumed that Crane was distrusting just by nature. She didn't realize he didn't start out that way.

_Of course, he didn't,_ her conscience thought. _No human starts out life like that._

Hush sighed, his breath making a slightly huff through the bandages he always had over his face. "Well, Crane didn't exactly have the best life…"

"I know," she said, looking down, her voice barely more than a whisper as she felt herself tearing up. His tale had broken her heart, and even thinking about it was hard, especially since their stories were so much alike. But she pulled herself together, wiping her eyes. "He told me his life's story."

Hush's eyes widened. The Professor never shared his life story with anyone, even his closest friends. To be given such an honor from him was quite unheard of, and quite the amazing surprise, especially since he once considered her his greatest enemy.

_But then again, you gotta keep your friends close and your enemies closer,_ Hush reasoned.

After a few moments of thinking, he finally spoke up again. "Did he really tell you the true version? Or was it just the fragment?"

"He told me everything," Becky responded.

Hush was shocked. "Then he must really trust you, Miss Albright, to share such information with you."

She smiled. "Well, I did promise not to tell," Becky said meekly, unable to meet his eyes. She had been close to breaking her promise sometimes, to blurt it out to either Tetch or Alice, but every time, she found she had the strength of will to keep it hidden. She wouldn't betray Crane, no matter what he did.

"And you've kept it?" Hush asked seriously.

She nodded.

Hush looked impressed. True loyalty was very rare to come by in Gotham, much less inside the Rogue's gallery. And it wasn't a blind loyalty, like Harley Quinn's, where she would selflessly throw herself into danger just on the whim of her lover. She was smart. She knew who he was, what he did, and yet still had the strength to not give into the madness that infected the rest of the rogues like a plague and yet stay by his side.

Such loyalty was not something Hush had ever encountered before, nor had he ever heard of.

"Loyalty's a hard thing to come by in Gotham. I can see why the Professor trusts you with this information." He reached over and tilted her head up to look at him. "If you like, I will tell you how Crane came to be the cynical, non-trusting man you know today."

She slapped his hand away from her face, uncomfortable with his touch. She hated being touched, especially by men. Ever since her father had started beating her, she hated the touch of another male, even a light touch. Her father would sometimes touch her like that, when he was sober, before beating her again a few minutes later when he was drunk.

Crane's, however, was different. It was nervous, as if he thought a single touch would break her. It was rare when he would, but the few times he did, such as when he guided her hand during the sparring practice they sometimes had, it left a comfortable, warm feeling.

But Crane she knew. Hush, she didn't. "Very well. I'll hear you out. Just don't touch me again!"

He nodded, much to her relief. "Alright, I'll tell you what I know. I don't know the entire story, just bits and pieces, but I'll share what I know."

Becky settled herself into her chair, awaiting his tale.

Hush took a deep breath, before starting his tale. "Well, it all started 7 years ago. Apparently, from what parts the Professor told me, he must have been in a pretty desperate situation at that point. So he struck up a deal with Cobblepot. If Cobblepot let Crane work in his lab and delivered the proper chemicals, then he would give the Penguin the fear toxin he made. The Penguin agreed. And it was there that he met…Linda Friitawa."

The lights flickered at her name, causing Becky to look up in shock. "Just who is this Linda Friitawa?" she asked, scared at the name. She didn't like the sound of it at all. It reeked of sadism and hate, and the lights turning off at the name couldn't just be a coincidence. She felt that, whomever she was, that she hadn't been kind or good to Crane at all.

Even Hush, a cold-hearted killer, shuddered. "I don't really know. But from what the Professor told me, she's not to be trusted. Ever. She's a lot like Poison Ivy. She tricks people with her kindness, then when she has no more use for them, she discards them like trash."

Becky winced. She didn't have to be a psychic or a psychologist to know how this had turned out for Crane.

"When he stumbled into my hideout, he was barely alive. I nursed him back to health, and then he went on his way."

"What about your payment?" she asked. Most villains, she realized, held a favors system among their own. If someone did something for them, then they owed a debt for the other to do something for them.

But this only applied to the ringleaders, not the henchmen themselves, so as to not cause a seizure of power from the henchmen should the ringleader refuse the payment system. While this didn't work among people like the Joker, it did work on many of the saner rogues, including Crane, so it was not uncommon to expect something in return from them if you saved their life.

Hush was just about to reply, before a familiar voice spoke up for him. "I didn't need to pay him because I had already given him something in return."

They both turned around when they heard Crane's voice.

He had trudged into the room from the door, his breath smelling of some cheap whisky, although it was just a slight buzz.

Becky hobbled over to him. "You better?"

Jonathan huffed. "Yes, as much as I can be." He turned to Hush. "Now, about those disguises?"

"I can't believe I'm actually doing this," Crane grumbled, trying to adjust the blonde wig on his head. The green contacts itched his eyes, and it was all he could do not to rub them.

They had made it out of the apartment and onto the streets of Gotham. So far, they were making good progress on their way back to their hideout. The people didn't seem to notice them, and pushed past them as they went. But Crane still felt paranoid about them. He could just feel their beady, little eyes watching him, dissecting him with their gazes.

"Relax, will you? No one even notices you," Becky whispered. She was dressed in her normal clothes she had brought in her bag. Scarecrow, however, had no spare clothes, so he was dressed in a loose-fitting, short-sleeved t-shirt and khaki pants.

"Yes, they are. And they're probably laughing," he growled, folding his arms over himself, shivering. It was still winter in Gotham, and it was certainly not the time for short-sleeved clothing of any sort. But that was the only outfit that would fit on his skinny frame, and he certainly wasn't going to turn down the only clothing he had besides the Scarecrow costume.

But despite this, he still felt naked and exposed without his usually long sleeved jacket and pants. It didn't help that a few of his childhood scars were exposed. Ever since he moved to Gotham from his hometown in Arlem, Georgia, he kept those scars hidden. No one had seen them until now, not even Hush, Hatter or Becky. And now everyone was seeing a least half of them. At least his red freckles didn't give away that he wasn't a true blonde.

"They're not, okay. Let's just get home and—oof!" she said, colliding into someone once again. _Man, I've got to start looking forward when I'm walking,_ she thought, before letting out a gasp as she discovered that she had walked into Bruce Wayne, the billionaire CEO of Wayne Enterprises, himself.

"O-Oh! M-Mr. Wayne, sir. I-I didn't see you there," Becky stammered, struggling to get to her feet. She couldn't believe she had bumped into THE Bruce Wayne. He rarely ever walked along the streets like a normal person, that was almost unheard of, thanks to the great, teaming masses of the paparazzi constantly chasing him down, demanding interviews and quotes.

"It's fine," he stated, helping her up. "I'm just glad you're doing so well. I was starting to worry."

"Heh, no worries," Becky replied, trying to sound chipper while inside she was scared to death. She hadn't counted on having Bruce Wayne bump into her, and she really didn't know what to do. "I'm doing well, Mr. Wayne. Just continuing my studies."

He smiled. "Good." He looked at Crane. "Who's your friend?"

"Uh-um…" Becky stammered, biting her lip. If Bruce Wayne found out that he was asking the Scarecrow if he was Becky's "friend", she would have died right there on the spot.

Crane tensed, awaiting her answer. He was just as nervous as she was. If Bruce Wayne found out he was the Scarecrow, this would immediately drag Becky into questioning by the police. They had continued to keep up the illusion that she was doing fine in school, continuing her studies and attendance. If someone found out, then Becky would be captured and possibly sent to prison or even to Arkham. He knew she wasn't ready for Arkham yet, as without a certain reputation among the rogues, they would rip her to pieces.

"He's a good friend of mine that happens to be attending Gotham University. We met during one of our classes, and have been friends ever since."

Crane looked at her, shocked. She considered him her…friend? His formerly greatest enemy considered him a friend? And a good friend at that. Not a colleague or some person she was an acquaintance with, but a good friend. He didn't know what to say. He didn't even know what to think. Had their relationship to each other grown that much? He hadn't thought about that. He decided to keep silent as he listened.

"Okay, what's your name, if you don't mind me asking?" Bruce asked, examining him closely. He looked very familiar.

"Irving. James Irving," Crane replied, his voice changing to reflect a southern twang, as if he had just moved to Gotham. His eyes drifted over to Becky. If he was going to get out of here without the police catching wind of his association with her, then he had to trust that Becky wouldn't say anything suspicious.

Thankfully, she didn't disappoint. She even acted like she was relaxed with him around, her arm lightly brushing his.

It seemed Bruce took the bait. "Well, then, it's nice to meet you, James. I'm glad that Becky seems to be doing well. I can trust that you treat her well."

Crane nodded. "Of course. I would never let her get hurt if I can help it," he said, his eyes flashing briefly in anger, although it was so brief that Bruce almost didn't catch it.

Bruce smiled. "Good." He looked at his watch. "Excuse me, but I must be going. Have a nice day, Miss Albright," he said, before walking past them as he went about on his way.

The two walked on, then, once he was far enough away, let out sighs of relief.

"That was too close," Scarecrow muttered, finally starting to let himself breathe again.

"Yeah," Scream replied. "But he didn't recognize you."

"I'm not sure if he did or didn't. I've heard rumors that he knows Batman personally, and Batman has a knack for remembering faces," Crane replied, starting to hurry towards the Amusement Mile. "And I'd rather not find out."

She nodded.

They ran/hobbled for a bit, before Crane stopped her. "When you lied to Wayne, did you really mean that you considered me a friend? Or was it just a ploy to throw Wayne off the scent?"

Becky looked down, then looked back up at him. "Yes, I really meant what I said. I mean, we have certainly come that far in our relationship."

Crane sighed. "Great. And what happens if he figures out that 'James Irving' isn't who he appears to be? Then we'll both be in trouble."

"Then we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Let's just go home," she said tiredly, her energy drained. All that arguing and stress had taken a toll on her, and she just wanted to take a break.

Crane sighed, before continuing towards the hideout. "Fine. But if Batman breaks into the lair tonight, I'm blaming you."

She laughed. "Touché."

They ran into their hideout, locking the door behind them.


	9. Target Practice

**Hey, guys. Sorry this took so long. I usually try to be ahead a few chapters before I post the next ones. But don't worry, I know exactly where this story is going, and although it might take a while, what with distractions and school about to start, I won't leave this story unfinished. Honestly, I hate when stories go unfinished, especially when you're invested in it. So I'll try and make sure that I won't do that. **

**Warning: mentions of rape. There is a reason I chose the BTAS Hatter instead of the others. **

Becky barely ducked in time to avoid Crane's kick as she reacted with a quick punch to his abdomen.

"So, why are we doing these sparing lessons again, Jon?" she asked, blocking another strike with her cane. "It's not like we're going to use it much. I mean, all we usually do is either gas them or run and hide when they decide to experience the fight or flight reaction. What's the point?"

Crane chuckled. "While its true we don't use this much, Batman and his robins do. They rely on these techniques to easily take us down. So we must, in turn, be prepared to counter those techniques with our own in order to stand at least a small chance against them," he replied, countering another blow.

He was currently using his violent dancing technique, a form of fighting he had adapted from drunken boxing and crane style kung-fu to keep opponents on their toes around him if he was caught off-guard, to train Becky to develop her own fighting techniques and see how she improvised on blocking and attacking.

She wasn't doing that badly, for a beginner, although he was taking it easy on her, mostly targeting her head and chest area, and not trying to leg-sweep her every time he attacked.

Becky shrugged. "I guess."

"And anyway, how do you know you won't be caught in a situation where you will need it? You're not always going to have fear gas available, and running and hiding might not be an option," Crane added, dodging a jab from her pipe cane, which caused her to trip, and landing him with another victory as he pinned her arms and good leg down.

She growled. The pipe wasn't working for her at all. Sure, it was fine for walking, but as an offensive weapon for a woman with static monoplegia, it was almost useless. Her normal tactic, to leg-sweep the opponent before she pinned them down, she couldn't do because the pipe's curve was too small to hook under a person's legs. All she could do was swing it around, which wasn't much use against him, as he was quickly able to dodge and counterattack.

Crane just smirked, before helping her up. "Nice try."

Becky sighed. "As thankful as I am for the pipe, it doesn't do well with an off-balanced person."

Crane chuckled. "Then I'm sure this might come in handy," he replied, reaching behind him to grab a cane.

Becky huffed, smiling, "You little stinker! I was wondering why you didn't try to turn." She took the cane from Crane's hand, testing its grip. It looked exactly like the one she lost, its grip fitting perfectly in her hand, as if it had never left. But there were a few differences, such as the various buttons, discreetly colored the same as the cane.

As the Scarecrow turned around, about to go on a short monologue about how it works or what not, she accidentally brushed over one of the buttons, causing a jet of flame to erupt from the tip of her cane.

It took all of two seconds for Crane to react, as he jumped around like a crazed monkey, trying to put out the fire. Becky couldn't help but laugh hysterically at the display.

"Very funny, Miss Albright," he growled, as he had finally found a damp spot to douse the flames. "Now then, if you're quite done laughing at my unfortunate circumstances."

"Oh, right, sorry," she said sheepishly, putting the tip back on the ground.

He chuckled. "Don't be. I understand your enthusiasm. But perhaps point the flamethrower away from the man who has flammable clothing."

Becky nodded, snickering. "I'll be sure to." She shifted her stance, leaning slightly on her cane. "So, when can I try out all the features of this new weapon?"

Crane smirked. "In a few minutes, once I've set the targets up."

She grinned in anticipation. She'd never had anything like this, and it certainly would come in handy if she were ever attacked during one of Scarecrow's raids. Her grin grew wider as she examined the buttons on the cane. She couldn't wait to try it out.

"No, no, no, that's not how you aim it," Crane cried, readjusting her aim. "You have to keep your target in the middle."

"I'm trying," Becky replied, firing off another shot. This one hit a little to the left of her intended target, grazing its arm. "Stupid thing shifts at the slightest touch."

She didn't know why the gun part of her cane decided to hate her guts, but she decided that somewhere in its odd, cane mind, it had wanted to spite her for leaving its brother behind. The other features, such as the flamethrower, extendable scythe, and even a blowgun that shot fear gas bombs, worked like a charm, more or less, mostly because it just involved pointing towards the target, with little to no recoil.

The gun, however, had quite some recoil, which often caused Becky's aim and balance to become off-kilter, knocking her to the floor and causing her bullet to stray way off course. One time, it was only his quick reflexes that prevented Crane from having a bullet in his brain, which would be quite unfortunate for all involved.

After nearly a dozen tries with the weapon, Becky was just about ready to give up. "Okay, I give up. What am I doing wrong? Why won't this thing hit its target?"

He chuckled. 'It's because you're not keeping it steady," he said, guiding her hand nearer to the middle. "And your feet should be spread a little further apart," he said, nudging her right foot further back, leaving her in an X-stance, like she was about to do jumping jacks. "Honestly, it's like you've never held a gun before."

"I haven't."

Jonathan burst out laughing. "Are you serious? You live in the most dangerous parts of he Narrows, and you've never held a gun before now?"

"Nope," she said, shaking her head. "Is that a problem?"

"Is that a problem?" he repeated, still laughing at the ridiculousness of the statement.

The Narrows were a tight and narrow place near the slums of the city. It was one of the most dangerous places of Gotham, situated right smack dab in the middle of the Joker's hideout and the Iceberg Lounge.

"Becky, most people that live there are armed to the teeth to prevent themselves from being killed. And you're saying that you've survived in that place for 5 years, and you've never held a gun before? I'm not sure if that is the bravest thing I've ever heard of or the most foolish, stupidest, only-surviving-by-dumb-luck, kind of thing."

"Hey! It was the only apartment I could afford, what with the hospital bills and college tuition fees that I have to pay. And isn't the Narrows in _your_ territory?"

Crane immediately shut his mouth. "Just…. try to hit the target again."

Becky laughed, before resuming her stance the way Crane had directed her. She aimed once again for her target, and then fired. The bullet hit its target, leaving a gapping hole in the cardboard target's chest.

Crane nodded. "Nicely done."

Becky grinned. It was about time she finally got that thing to work. She reloaded and was ready to shoot again when Jervis burst through the door, almost causing her to shoot his hat right off his head.

Jervis flinched, immediately putting his hands in the air, as if he were surrounded by dozens of police cars. "D-d-don't shoot! Please, don't shoot!" he whimpered. This was his finest hat, and he really didn't want it to be shot full of holes.

She immediately put her gun/cane down. "Jervis, what's wrong?" she asked, hurrying towards him.

Jervis seemed rather frazzled. His hat was leaning to one side of his head, his trench coat was missing, and he had several rips and tears in his checkered vest, with blue bruises and bloody cuts underneath.

"I-I'm sorry for coming in unannounced, but have you seen Alice anywhere recently? I've been looking for her everywhere."

Becky narrowed her eyes at him. She hadn't forgotten the time Tetch had kidnapped her best friend and had tied her up, as well as dressing her up in a childish Alice in Wonderland dress. And who knew what he did with her after she and Scarecrow left? His file that she had researched had said that he had done perverted things to her while Alice was mind-controlled by him. And she wouldn't put it past him to try that, what with his creepy smile and smarmy outfit. "And how do we know that you won't do anything to her once you find her?"

Jervis looked confused. "What do you mean by that?" he asked naively.

"Don't play dumb with me, Tetch! I've read your file and I know that you molested her when you captured her the first time!"

"Becky…" Jonathan warned, looking at the Hatter's body language. He almost seemed like he had been electrocuted, with the amount of twitching he was doing. His left eye was twitching and his right leg was thumping wildly, almost more than Disney's Thumper, and his hands were wringing uncontrollably. He looked like he was about to go mad…literally.

He looked at her in shock. "W-What? Y-You think I-I would do…" he gestures wildly around him. "…Y'know… _that_ against her will?"

"Well…"

Jonathan winced. He just knew from that one word that things were going to explode.

Tetch looked at her in astonishment, before finally answering her in a cold harsh tone as his face boiled with rage. "Miss Albright, let me make one thing clear to you."

Becky gulped. She knew she was in trouble when she heard Jervis' voice lowered to a deathly hiss.

"I may be a criminal, I may be a Rogue, but I am NOT a monster. And if anyone, and I mean ANYONE, tried to do that to her then…then…." He immediately brought out his Wonderland-themed axe. "_OFF WITH THEIR HEADS! OFF WITH THEIR HEADS_!" he screamed, swinging his axe around wildly, nearly decapitating her if she hadn't jumped back.

Jonathan immediately lunged for him, wrenching the axe away from the crazed Hatter and pinning his arms against the wall. "Tetch, calm down! Calm down!"

Jervis lay there, staring at both of them, before breaking down into tears. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I wouldn't…I shouldn't have…"

Becky looked down. His outburst had scared her, as she suddenly saw a different side of Jervis then what she had expected. She felt ashamed of herself for believing what the media had said about them. She knew that the way the media in Gotham portrayed things were not often the truth. She had known that since she had first started working with the Scarecrow. And yet, she had still fallen into the same hypocrisy as the other Gothamites, who would often say they were good, honest people when, in reality, they worked for people like Black Mask and the Joker. "Let him go, Jonathan."

Crane looked at her. 'Are you sure?' his eyes seemed to say.

She nodded. She would take her chances.

Jonathan let him go, causing Jervis to fall down to the ground, where he crouched, whimpering.

"Jervis?" Becky asked, scooting herself towards him. "I'm so sorry for accusing you of those things."

He sniffled, looking up at her.

"It's just, I don't know you very well, and Alice is my best friend. She means a lot to me. I don't want her getting hurt if I look away for a moment. But that is still no excuse for me to accuse you of that heinous crime. Can you forgive me, Jervis?"

He nodded, hugging her briefly, before jumping back to his usual, chipper, if worried, self. "But I still don't know where Alice is? She could be anywhere by now."

"Hrm," Crane muttered. "Have you tried the University?"

Jervis nodded his head. "Yep, already checked it."

Crane raised an eyebrow. "Really? Every building?"

Jervis tapped his fingers together. "Well, not every building. I may have missed one or two near the back."

"Well, what are you doing coming to me? If Alice is in one of those buildings, go find her!" Jonathan snapped, irritated at the Hatter. Children seemed to act more adult than Tetch was sometimes.

"Well, I was going to, but there were some creepy looking guys heading towards one of buildings." The Hatter shivered. "They were really scary, with discoloring all over their bodies, as well as horns and other things on their heads. I didn't have my cards with me, so I ran as fast as I could to get out of there.

Crane sighed, slapping his forehead. All this drama could have been avoided if the Hatter wasn't such a scatterbrain and forgot to get his cards. "It's probably just some pranksters or actors going to their set."

"B-But they were real. I swear!" Tetch cried, starting to become twitchy again. Besides Alice, Jonathan and Becky were his only friends he could trust. Harley didn't count, as if it came between him and the Joker, she would pick the Joker any day of the week. And if they didn't believe him, then no one would.

Becky glanced at Scarecrow before her eyes drew back to Tetch. "Jervis, you did take the medicine Alice gave you, didn't you?"

"I did take my medicine! Why don't you believe me?" Jervis cried, tears starting to come to his eyes.

Becky immediately felt bad for her comment and put her hands on his shoulders, hoping he wouldn't have another freak out like he had a few minutes before. "No, no, no, it's not like we don't believe you. We're just saying that they may not be how you perceive them. They could just be a few goofs who've decided to pull an innocent prank on their friends," she explained, praying that he wouldn't take offense.

"But what if they're not?" Jervis whispered, quivering in fear of what they would do to his dear Alice.

She frowned. "If they're not, then I'm sure someone will take care of it, whether it be you or Batman." Going over to her desk, she grabbed a few cards from the table. "And if it makes you feel better, here are some of your mind-control cards you left here."

Jervis smiled as Becky handed him his cards. "Thank you, Becky. You're a good friend," he said, giving her another quick hug before heading out the door, anxious to find his friend.

Becky smiled as he closed the door, glad she could help her friend, and glad that he understood what she was trying to tell him.


	10. Black Mail

As Jervis walked down the wet, concrete streets of the Amusement Mile, he couldn't help but berate himself.

"_I know who I was when I got up this morning, but I think I must have been changed several times since then, _and probably for the worst," he said, shivering from the cold, biting rain. Oh, how he wished he had his coat.

But being cold and miserable didn't excuse his actions against her, just as it wasn't an excuse for her to accuse him of being the way he appeared: like a creepy stalker offering candy to children.

"_'I can't explain myself, I'm afraid, sir,' said Alice, 'because I'm not myself you see,'"_ Tetch replied, talking to himself. He just knew Alice would be embarrassed to see him like this.

He knew his reactions were unjustified, and he didn't need to try to attempt to use violence to illustrate his point. Sometimes, he would suddenly black out, somewhat, in his mind, and it felt like his body was operating by itself. It had happened many times since he was around his late teens, and had gotten monumentally worse after he thought he had lost Alice to Billy. The scariest part after these blackouts were waking up from them, and finding what you loved smashed into pieces.

Most of his crimes had been committed that way, and he would often wake up in his cell at Arkham wondering how on earth he had gotten there, and what he could have possibly done.

He breathed in, and then out, in, and then out, trying to calm himself. His mind was going three million directions at once, and probably three million miles per hour to boot. He just needed to take a moment to collect himself.

So, he did, leaning against a signpost, just breathing in and out.

"Alright, Tetch, get a hold of yourself! Alice is out there somewhere. She wouldn't just leave without some sort of notice," Jervis reassured himself, starting to walk again. "And she would not appreciate me sitting there feeling sorry for myself! She would want me to be brave, to keep going."

He began to walk faster, starting to become more confident in himself by his self-assurances. Yes, he would find her. Of course he would find her! He was the Mad Hatter, for Pete's sake! He would find her even if it took all night.

If he was being honest with himself, he was very lucky for her to still have stuck around him. He knew that sometimes, he wasn't the most pleasant to be around, nor someone people would feel safe with. He knew what he was, what he looked like. He didn't blame Becky, really, for accusing him of all those things. Frankly, he would have thought the same thing, if it were he in her place.

Alice, though, she understood. She looked past his exterior, past his oversized overbite and smarmy outfit and somewhat creepy smile and looked within him, to what he tried to be underneath: an honest, creative, if a little anxious and maybe just a little bit mad, man.

She was his angel, his light. Before he had met Jonathan, she had been his only friend, his only confident in a world full of people that just didn't understand. Sure, she didn't always understand what he was trying to say or what he was doing with his inventions, but she would try to listen as best as she could, even if it was a bit inconvenient for her. She was the most beautiful, compassionate, and lovable person he had ever met.

And that was why he had been so angry when Billy, one of her boyfriends that she had been seeing on and off during that time, had proposed to her. He knew those types of guys, the rich ones, who seemed to use woman for their own personal gain, then dump them when a prettier one caught their eye. When she had showed him the ring, he had felt a surge of anger run through him. How dare he take her away from him! How dare he do something that he knew, in the long run, would only cause ruin!

The rest of the night passed in a blur, with only a few moments here or there that he remembered. It had only hit him later when they had shared a look with each other, with him trapped underneath the Jabberwocky's massive paw that he had given up his ultimately futile attempt to win her over then, and had resigned himself to a life as a criminal.

But when he heard that Jonathan wanted him to play act as the dean of the University and that Alice might be there, he quickly agreed. He had never apologized for his behavior during that night, and had wanted to personally tell her he was sorry for all those things.

He was so focused on his thoughts and memories of their time together that he didn't notice when someone had grabbed him from behind, pulling him into a nearby alleyway.

"Come with us," they growled, their gravely voice frightening the poor Hatter.

They were the same men who had been going into one of the University's buildings. He could make out the discolorations of their skin, and could see where, on the discolorations, feather and scales were starting to develop.

"W-Who are you people?" He asked, his self-assurances and happy thoughts suddenly sounding hollow in his ears. He reached into his pocket, about to grab and throw his cards.

The goons would have none of that, however, as they grabbed his hands and wrenched them out of his pockets.

"Heh, my guess you don't want to see my card trick, did you?" he chuckled nervously, trying to make a joke.

"Shut up! And stay quiet! The Mistress wants you brought back alive, and if you don't stay quiet, I might be tempted to shut you up immediately."

Tetch rolled his eyes. _Typical of these buffoons,_ he thought, _all bark and no bite. They don't even have any weapons on them,_ he noted, scanning their sides. _Maybe if he could get them talking, they might reveal where my dear Alice is or who this "Mistress", whoever she is, could be._

"Really? And wouldn't the Queen of Hearts want me alive in order to execute me?" he retorted, quite tetchily.

He quickly regretted those words when he got a good look at one of the goon's hands around his neck. The nails had curled and grown out into long, vicious claws, claws more befitting of a dinosaur than a man.

"Who says that I don't have to execute you her and now, freak? The Mistress might want you alive, but I'm sure delivering your brain to her personally would be just as good. Now, zip your lips and get walking, lunatic."

Jervis mimed zipping his lips with a nervous smile as he started walking, a goon trailing behind him to "encourage" him to get moving.

After a few minutes of walking silently, Tetch soon saw that he was heading towards the Gotham shipyards. Even though he couldn't see the docks, per say, Jervis could hear the splashes of the water and the creaky swinging of the cargo being delivered. Distantly, he could hear the faint sound of a ship's horn as it came into the docks.

He didn't have long to make note of his surroundings, as the henchman behind him, growing impatient with him, had shoved Jervis forward roughly, causing the smaller man to stagger forward. "C'mon, we don't got all day, Hatter. Get a move on!"

_"'The hurrier I go, the behinder I get,'" _Jervis mumbled crossly, picking up his hat from the ground. It seemed that he was nearly there, wherever there was, as the goon behind him slammed the door shut, locking it tightly with a bolt.

It was completely dark in the building, save for the luminous lines on the ground pointing towards another door farther down.

"Wait here," one of the goons grunted, slightly opening the door and scurrying quietly inside.

Both Jervis and the rest of the goons waited in anxious anticipation of what was behind that door.

For the goons, they waited for the screams to start before running from the door. They knew if screams were heard that their Mistress was very displeased, and they would need to make a run for it before she decided to subject them to more torturous experiments with either her fear toxin or with different animal DNA, which she would test on whoever she could get her hands on.

This time, however, all they could hear were mumbles coming from the door, which they took as a good sign that things had gone well.

Jervis, however, knew no such thing, and was currently sweating through both his vest and his shirt. He had no idea where he was, and for all he knew, there could be any sort of creature in there, be it man, beast, or some kind of strange, eldritch abomination. He wouldn't even be surprised if even Cthulu or Azathoth was in there. He had certainly seen stranger things in Gotham, and he might as well add that to the list. All he knew was that one man-like monstrosity went in, and hadn't come back out yet.

He dearly hoped that Alice was safe. He couldn't stand the thought of something happening to her. She didn't deserve to be drawn into this mess, not when she hadn't done anything wrong in the first place.

It wasn't long before the goon came back, whole and uneaten, which reassured the Hatter, somewhat, as he gestured for him to enter.

Knowing he had no choice, he nervously entered the Mistress' inner sanctum.

Despite the warehouse's size, this room was huge in scale. Everywhere he looked, he could see high walls and a high ceiling. Everywhere he looked, he could see machinery clanking away, as well as the buzzing of the dozens of monitors near the center of the room.

Jervis let out a sigh of relief. Well, it certainly didn't look like the end of existence or some part of the space-time rip he was looking into, fortunately. He chuckled. This wouldn't be so bad. Maybe he could survive.

That is, until he heard a whisper near his ear. "Hello, Tetch."

He jumped in fright, looking around furtively. The shadows cast by the light seemed tangible, as if it was about to crush him and suffocate the air right out of his lungs.

"It's been a long time, hasn't it?" the voice continued, moving around him.

"W-W-Who are you?" he asked, his eyes drifting to the shadows around the room.

"Did you forget me already, dear Tetch? I certainly haven't forgotten you." The shadowy figure of a woman appeared, seemingly dissolving from the very shadows themselves.

As she came closer to him, enough for him to recognize her figure and voice, the Hatter's eyes widened as he finally placed her in his mind. _No, not her,_ he thought, starting to shiver_, anything but her._

Really, he would prefer any of those Lovecraftian horrors that Jonathan had often told him about. At least they only caused permanent insanity to him, something he could totally live with. She, however, would take no mercy on him. She could cut through his insanity like a knife, smashing any sort of thought or belief he may have had left. It was only the thought that Alice was in here that he didn't immediately flee for the door and away from this cursed place.

"I see you still recognize me, don't you?" she purred, chuckling. "Good! That will make things a lot easier."

Jervis felt like he was paralyzed. He couldn't move an inch, could barely form a breath. He didn't know what that Jabberwocky of a woman wanted, but he knew that it could never be good.

Finally, he found that he could move his lips, but just barely enough to get out words. "W-Where's Alice?" Jervis asked. "I-I need to find her! To see her!"

The woman frowned for a moment, before her mouth formed into a malicious smile. "You would like to see her, then? Very well."

She clicked a button on her remote. Automatically, one of the screens that had formerly been a bunch of static suddenly became crystal clear, showing Alice in her casual clothes, tugging fervently at her bonds.

Jervis, suddenly gaining the courage to move, immediately ran to the monitor. "Alice! Oh thank God, you're alive! I was so worried!"

Inside her cell, Alice looked up. "Jervis? Is that you?" she asked, perking up at the sound of his voice.

He smiled. "Yes, it's me, love! I'm here!"

Suddenly, Alice seemed to realize something important. "Jervis! You need to get out of here! That woman is planning to…" the feed cut out.

"Ah, ah, ah! Spoilers," she said, a cruel sneer on her face as she watched the Hatter frantically banging on the monitor. "We wouldn't want to spoil the surprise, do we?"

"W-What do you want?" he mumbled, wringing his hands together. He knew that it would be all too easy for the woman to manipulate him now that she had Alice. He was too scared to even quote _Alice in Wonderland_, as he feared that she would tear out his throat if she didn't get a straight answer.

She chuckled, a dark, cold sound that reminded Jervis of the howling, cold, icy wind. "Isn't it obvious, dear Hatter? I have need of your technological knowledge in mind control."

"Why?" he asked.

She smirked. "Let's just say that I have a certain…someone I would like to control."

Jervis instantly made the connection in his mind. "No! I will betray the March Hare. Never!"

She tisked. "Oh, I didn't want to have to do this," she said with mock sympathy. She switched on the intercom. "Kill the girl!"

The Hatter instantly panicked when he heard the order. "N-No! Please! I'll do anything! Just please don't hurt her!" he pleaded, practically screaming. He couldn't let her be killed. It would destroy whatever sanity he had left if she was killed.

She smiled. She finally broke him. She closed her eyes, savoring the sweet feeling of a breaking spirit. It was a bit before she finally said something. "Anything? Then you will make me my controller?"

Jervis looked down. _Forgive me, Jonathan_, he thought, a tear coming to his eye. _But this is for Alice. _" Yes, I will. Just don't hurt her."

With a satisfied smile, she called off her goons, who had been moments away from pulling the trigger and ending Alice's life.

The Hatter was taking deep breaths, trying to calm his nerves. _She's safe! She's safe! _He thought, trying to reassure himself that she would be fine.

"Very well, I won't. As long as you make me my device, then I'll make sure your precious little Alice is safe and unharmed. And since I've decided I'll be a little bit generous, I'll even let you both go once everything is said and done."

He nodded, resigning himself to his fate. He had no choice now. But maybe…"Alright, I'll do it. But I will need to go back and get my supplies…"

"No need. Everything has been provided for you to work with."

_Drat!_ He thought. _I can't warn Jonathan or Becky, then._ "Oh, okay, then. Brilliant! I-I'll get started right away," he said, a nervous smile on his face.

She grinned a grin that would make Cheshire cat proud. "Excellent!" She snapped her fingers. "Fang! Needles!"

Instantly, two new goons were at her side. "Yes, ma'am," they said in unison.

"Take Mr. Tetch to his invention room," she ordered.

"Yes, ma'am," they repeated, grabbing Tetch by his arms and leading him away.

The woman grinned. Everything was going according to plan. All that she needed now was the final piece.

She couldn't help but let out a maniacal laugh. Soon, he would be hers. And no one, not the police, not the Batman, his little robins, or even the little pest Becky could stop her now.


	11. Warning

**Hey, I'm back! College has been a exciting and exhausting endeavor, and with lots of tests and distractions, I haven't been as prudent as I usually am in updating. Thank you everyone for waiting and reviewing my stories. It really makes my day when you guys give me such good comments, so keep it up, and enjoy the story.**

**Edit: Sorry about the format last time. I'll try to make it better. **

"Hurry, Scream! He's catching up!" Scarecrow shouted, ducking as a batarang flew past his face.

"I'm coming, Scarecrow! You know I can't run as fast as you can!" complained Becky, ducking as the batarang flew back to its owner, while dodging the Caped Crusader's attacks.

It had been three weeks since Jervis had come looking for Alice. Naturally, after his outburst, he could have been caught wandering around somewhere in Gotham by Batman and dragged back to Arkham, as that was usually the case with him, Jonathan had said. As for Alice, she could have just wanted a break from the Hatter for a little while, as his often exuberant and eccentric personality could be quite a bit to handle.

In the meantime, Jonathan had been doing more research on a new, more effective method of fear gas. He was thinking of filling several balloons with a combination of both water and the chemicals for his fear gas formula. He had found that combining the drugs with water tended to make the effects linger far longer than his gas compounds usually did, and he was hoping that, if launched from, say, the very top of the Wonder Tower in Sheldon Park, that he could virtually affect many different people at the same time in many different areas, causing the police to become worn out from so many different incidents in the same space of that, crime would skyrocket and Batman would have to be called in instead, and that would hopefully buy them a few more days of peace before they had to move lairs.

And although Becky absolutely refused to help with the research of his fear toxin, she did agree to help him acquire the supplies, and he would assemble it himself. Unfortunately, midway through the acquiring of their hodgepodge of balloons and illegal chemicals, Batman had come crashing in, forcing them to flee with as much supplies as they could carry with them.

But as they ran, Batman was getting closer and closer to them, and Becky was still refusing to let off the gas near him, seeing as there were still several people in the store with them. And while he could admire her integrity, it still frustrated him at her holding back. He would rather some citizens suffer than to let her or him get captured by Batman. Besides, the police, who were right outside, already had the antidote.

"Any time now, Scream," Scarecrow growled, his eyes dilating with worry as Batman came closer to grabbing her. He knew that Batman was hardly gentle with criminals, even with Harley and Poison Ivy. And with Becky's vulnerable leg and medical conditions, he could accidentally kill her with even his more gentle incapacitating moves.

Currently, he was waiting outside in the shadows, using his fear toxin as a smoke screen to confuse the policemen, while he waited for her to meet him.

"I'm coming!" she cried, her scythe/cane slashing out at Batman.

She saw her chance when Batman leapt back to avoid her cane and dove for cover, catching up with the Scarecrow as he lifted up a manhole cover and disappeared down into the sewers.

"I'm here," she said, panting. "He's going to be right behind us any minute now."

"Shh!" he replied, covering her mouth. "Not so loud," he whispered, looking around frantically for any signs of the Bat or his robins. Seeing none, although the Robins could be hidden out of sight, he gestured for her to follow as he raced into the maze of paths that connected this part of the Gotham Sewers with the rest.

As they went deeper and deeper into the maze, the low, booming footsteps of Batman followed them hastily, silently tracking them as they went.

Finally, the footsteps stopped.

The two Rogues silently held their breath as Batman passed their hiding spot in the grates, silently praying that they wouldn't be found.

Much to their relief, it seemed that Batman had other matters to attend to, as he answered in his gruff whisper to his caller before hurrying past their direction, towards the entrance of the manhole cover, his footsteps soon receding from their hearing./p

"That was a close one," Scream whispered, finally breathing a sigh of relief.

"Yes," said Scarecrow, peering cautiously around the corner. "But don't get too cocky. We have more than Batman to worry about down here."

"Like what? Giant rats?" she asked sarcastically.

He snorted. "Worse," he replied brusquely, as he continued to creep quietly down another tunnel. "Crocodiles."

She rolled her eyes. She had heard rumors of crocodiles in the sewers, but she didn't believe them. She knew that was just an urban myth, designed to scare superstitious people into not going down into the sewers_.Besides, the smell alone in this place would probably kill them 'em_ she thought. _Heck, it almost killed me the first time I came down here_.

Not many people knew this, but one of the ways that the supervillains in Gotham got around so quickly was through the sewers. In there, with a good knowledge of the city and its inner workings, they could get from one side of the city to the next in a good fifteen to thirty minutes, bypassing various dangers like the police and Batman, who would often wait for them at the top, hoping to ambush them.

But the sewers held their own set of dangers as well. Not only was it dark and moldy down there, as well as creaking places likely to fall apart if you put so much as a feather on them, but it wound its way so tightly through the city you could very well get lost in the maze and end up starving or dying of thirst, or if you were particularly unlucky, get caught in a nest of hungry rats that made their home down there. That was why only the more experienced rogues used the sewers, and only as a final resort if the police had surrounded them.

Becky couldn't tell whether it had been an hour or several hours that they had been down there, and she was starting to feel like they were going in circles. She had been focusing so much before on catching up with Scarecrow that she hadn't paid as much attention to any landmarks or signs she could use to find her way back. Not that it mattered, as it was too dark to make out much of anything.

"Jonathan, are you sure you know where you're going?" she asked, flinching at the loud, creaky sounds her footsteps made as they walked across a few boards. Moss coated the ceiling and floor, making walking very difficult for her. She had already slipped three times, nearly falling into the cold, filthy sewage water.

"Of course I know where I'm going!" he snapped, feeling himself starting to slip on the moss, before regaining his balance. "We're going a different way to get closer to the lair. That way we can get the Bat off our tracks and get the equipment safely back in one piece. Besides, I know this place like the back of my hand."

She sighed. "If you say so," she replied, nervously looking over her shoulders. She just couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched, and not by the usual giant rats. This felt bigger. Much bigger.

They had come to a section of boards that lead into a flooded part of the sewer. Carefully, so as not to capsize the small planks they were on, Crane helped Becky steady herself, keeping her from falling into the deep water.

As they walked along, the vibrations they made pulsed out into the surrounding water, alerting the predator in it that dinner was served.

He smiled at her as light was starting to leak from a manhole cover a few hundred feet away from them. "See? Nothing dangerous in sight."

"Well, guess you were right," Becky replied, surprised. She had really expected something to jump out and grab them from behind, but it seemed that her anxiousness was unfounded.

"Trust me, my dear. There is nothing in this sewer that we can't handle.

Suddenly, the water started to surge and bubble as the massive form of Killer Croc burst from the water, roaring with rage and hunger.

"Except that! Run!" Scarecrow yelled, backpedaling so quickly that, if not for his tight grip on Scream's hand, she would have fallen into the water and been devoured.

Croc, knowing he was faster than them in the water, began to smash the wooden planks that secured their fate ahead of them as they raced as fast as they could towards the light.

"We won't be able to jump over to the other side this way. We need to find another way," Scarecrow said, narrowly avoiding a swipe from Croc.

Scream looked around, before spotting a cavity in the stone wall ahead of them. "Scarecrow! Over there! There's an opening," she shouted.

"Making a quick turn, he pivoted towards the entrance; Scream trailing close behind as Croc suddenly caught on to their plan and started to destroy their new path.

"Jump!"

With a flying leap, they gracelessly fell onto the stones, scrambling quickly upwards as they soon found themselves trapped behind a cross-barred gate.

Scarecrow, despite his more cowardly nature, quickly stood in front of Becky, not willing to risk her getting hurt if Croc decided to attack. His scythe was already unsheathed and held with both his hands in a defensive blocking position as he waited for Croc to surface. He would never admit it, but he had grown quite…attached to her. And he had no idea what Killer Croc wanted, nor did he care for he or Becky, especially Becky, to be on the menu.

Croc lunged out of the water towards them, his yellow eyes glowing in the dim light. He was over seven feet tall, his form blocking the entrance to the watery pit that they had previously ran.

"What do you want Croc? You're a bit far from your regular stomping grounds," Crane said, starting to back away from the savage killer, herding Becky closer to the door and away from Croc's massive jaws.

Croc laughed. "This entire sewer is my sstomping ground. And you are tresspassing."

"Yes, and we were just passing through. Now, if you don't mind…" he replied, trying to keep him placated. It would be a bad idea to get him angry, as an angry Croc would likely rip them apart limb from limb.

"Not just yet. The Mistress promised me extra mealssss if I deliver a message to the one known as Ssscream," Croc said, his guttural voice sending shivers down both of their spines.

"I-I'm Scream," she said, bravely standing up to him while Scarecrow switched positions with her, as he worked on lock-picking the gate.

Croc chuckled. "So, you are just as plucky as I heard, Ssscream, or sssshould I say, Rebecca Albright. Ssstill, you'll need more than just courage to take her down."

"What exactly is your message, Croc?" Becky asked angrily, standing her ground. She was tired of people dancing around the issues. Crane did it all the time with her when something that would slightly offend her came up, and frankly, she was sick of it. She just wanted to get straight to the point and get out of this smelly, disgusting place.

"Cut your ties with Crane, Albright. Otherwissse…"

"Otherwise what?" she challenged, taking a step closer to him. She refused to acknowledge her fear of him as she glared into his reptilian eyes, daring him to try something else. She would never give up on Jonathan, and she refused to be intimidated into doing such, even by a huge crocodilian. Behind her, Scarecrow continued to fiddle with the lock, trying to get the ancient piece of rusted metal to open.

He chuckled. "Otherwise, the Scarebeast will hunt you down. And believe me, you'll be begging for my cold jawsss to _Snap_ across you throat." He licked his lips in anticipation, already savoring how delicious she would taste.

At the name of the Scarebeast, Scarecrow flinched. He now knew just who this mysterious Mistress was. But she couldn't be back. The last he had heard of her, she was working with the new Black Mask, Jeremiah Arkham. She didn't want anything to do with him anymore, just as he didn't want anything to do with her. So why did she take such a sudden interest in him now, of all times?

"And who or what is this 'Scarebeast?' Another one of your mistress' scare tactics?" Becky snarled, unaware of just how close to danger she was skirting with Croc in front of her.

"Becky…let's go," Crane warned, finally getting the lock picked, grabbing her arm and pulling her towards the exit. He didn't want to get Croc angrier than he already was. And with the rate she was going, it was only a matter of time before he charged at them.

Unfortunately, she didn't get the warning in his voice, too angry at Croc to listen to her partner. "Oh, and one more thing, tell your mistress that she'll have a better chance of making you into a suitcase than making me run in fear!"

With a roar, Croc launched himself at the pair. Scarecrow barely grabbed Scream and slipped through the door in time before Croc rammed himself into the gate, jamming the door. He rammed it again and again, trying to make it budge, but to no avail.

The two bolted for their lives, not bothering to look back if Croc had gone another way. They didn't stop running until they were in the safety of their lair, dead bolting the doors in case Croc had tracked them to their hideout.

"Well, at least we got away from that thing," Becky said, as the two goons finished bolting the doors before scurrying off. "And what was with his threat? Did he honestly think he could scare me with that 'Scarebeast' thing? Hah! I really don't think that will be too much troub—" she was interrupted by Crane grabbing her throat and slamming her into the wall.

"Don't EVER mention that thing again! Do you understand me, Becky?" he roared, his eyes burning a scorching yellow.

Becky was startled as she looked into his eyes. Rarely had she ever seen Crane's eyes flash like that, and only when he was either very scared or very, VERY angry. The only time she had seen his eyes like that was when the Joker had her, and that time wasn't just a small ember. It was literally a flaming yellow orange, like the eyes of a Jack O' Lantern. "Jonathan…." She squeaked, starting to gag. "Please…stop…. you're…. choking…. me."

At her words, he seemed to realize what he was doing and instantly let go, his eyes changing back to their normal, icy-blue color. His eyes were now wide with horror, and he swiftly pushed past her and into his lab, ashamed of what he had just done.

Becky slumped to the floor, gasping for breath, completely shocked by his outburst. He had never, in all these months of being together, ever hit her like that. Even in sparring training, she could sense that he was holding back, preventing himself from causing her serious injuries. But this…this was full-force. She rubbed her neck where he had grasped it, knowing full well there would be bruises there in the settled herself on the floor. She knew he had a lot of stress eating at his mind, and it all came to a head today. He needed to regroup his thoughts. So, she sat silently and waited for him to come out and apologize.

Meanwhile, in his lab, Crane was pondering what he had just done.

_What on earth was I thinking?_ He thought, throwing one of his fear gas sprays across the room. _I would have never hit her in my life. Ever. And yet…._ He couldn't bring himself to finish his thought.

"But why am I feeling this way? Why do I feel so…. ashamed?" he murmured to himself. He had been studying fear and its effects for almost 20 years now, and half of that time was spent as a Rogue. In that time, he had distanced himself from others, to the point of not even showing a hint of positive emotion as he grew up. All that usually showed on his callous features were anger, annoyance, and fear, and even those emotions were starting to become numb. And shame was especially an emotion he had not felt in years, not since he was a little boy, when he was punished for something wrong he had done. In his career as a rogue, he had thought that shame was the first emotion to leave him, gone when he had first started experimenting on his test subjects.

But if shame was the first thing he had become apathetic towards, why was he feeling it now? In fact, now that he thought about it, he had displayed a lot of emotion over the past few months. Happiness when something went right, disappointment when something didn't go his way, and even empathy when Becky was telling him her story.

Becky.

"It was Becky, wasn't it? She was the reason he had begun to feel alive again. All that time he was trying to manipulate her, and it turned out that he was the one who was changing. Oh, sure, she had changed her viewpoint somewhat in his favor, but her spirit, her will, he just couldn't twist or manipulate and now, he didn't even want to anymore.

Every time he thought of her, he felt comfort, peace. He had never really felt that way with anybody else before her. Oh, he thought he had, before. But those others…they only betrayed him in the end. Even thinking about them sent painfully memories coming crashing down on him.

But Becky he knew would never betray him. She held loyalty and promises too high to betray him over a whim. He trusted her like he had never trusted anybody else. Why else would he keep her around and believe that she would come back at the end of the day when she went off to run errands or attend her classes?

"A thought suddenly occurred to him._ Do I love her?_ That would certainly make sense. His bond with her was very strong, and he felt a peace with her that no other person had ever given him before. He could trust her to come back to him, and knew that she cared for him enough to never betray him. It made sense that he would feel secure enough with her that feelings like love could develop.

"But…should I tell her?" He asked himself, suddenly finding himself nervous. He honestly didn't know if she would return his affections for her. For all he knew, she might have only considered him a good friend, or something along that line. He knew, after the last two times he had felt such feelings, that those women had no interest in him, and only wanted him as entertainment or research. And although he knew she would do none of those things, he didn't want to face the disappointment and rejection he had faced all of his life.

He immediately berated himself for having such thoughts. _Oh, suck it up. You're the Master of Fear, not some lovesick teenager. You will go up there and you will tell her what you feel, despite the odds. At least then, you'll have at least some closure._

He was just about to stand from his perch on his seat, when he stopped.

_But…if I do tell her I love her, truly, then that would mean no more secrets between us. She would know everything about me, about who I am, and what I've done. I know I'm done many things in my life that would disgust her, and I know that to continue studying fear in my old ways will eventually separate us in the end. And if we're separated… _A cold shiver ran down his spine as he realized why he had flinched at Croc's warning.

_And if we're separated…. then that means Friitawa would kill her by using me._ His mind was filled with dread as he pictured himself standing over her, his monstrous Scarebeast form twisting him into something hideous as he raised his hand to end her life, all while Fright looked on, laughing at him. Images filled his mind, voices from his past experiences coming back to him, mocking him, hitting him, telling him he wasn't good enough, he wasn't smart enough, and he wasn't fast enough to save the only person he felt he could trust wholeheartedly.

"Now he realized what he really feared, and it made him feel like a hypocrite. When he was in Arkham being examined by the psychiatrists, he would often hijack their role and explain to them why fear was the best way to life. He would often tell them that the reason they held on to such notions as love and family was because they feared being alone, feared having nothing to contribute to their legacy, and feared facing death alone.

But now, he understood how they felt. He found he didn't want to spend all of his life alone. He found that, in trying to control and manipulate the fears in others, he was driven by those same fears in himself. All that time he had built himself up to be the Master of Fear, when in actuality; he was just a puppet of the same fear he tried to control.

It seemed that Becky, in admitting her fear and facing it, was the master of her own fears, understanding them and looking to push past their boundaries without letting them discourage her.

And now it was his turn to face his insecurity and anxiety. To either be ruled by it, or be the master of it.

And with his mind made up, Jonathan walked over to his door and opened it, stepping out of his lab.


	12. Human

**Happy Halloween everybody! I thought this would be a good treat for all you guys. I'm sure you'll enjoy this chapter just as much as I did writing it. Thank you all for the continued support you've shown me, and have a fun night of thrills, chills, and spoils tonight. Mwuhahahahaha!**

Becky looked up from her vigil on the couch as Crane ascended the stairs, avoiding her gaze. He didn't know what he would do now. He could still see the bruises he had left on her neck where he had choked her, and he couldn't face the hurt and concerned expression on her face, knowing that it was his actions that caused her so much pain.

He went towards her, his feet shuffling along before slowly, carefully, wrapping his arms around her in a hug. "I'm sorry," he whispered in her ear.

Becky's eyes widened, not expecting Jonathan's sudden burst of affection. She knew he was anything but a touchy-feely person. He barely touched her skin most of the time, mostly giving a small tap or so when she needed to adjust her stance or a light brush of his hand on her shoulder. Slowly, she slid her arms around him, enjoying the euphoric feeling. "I know," she whispered back.

He soon pulled away, seemingly retreating into himself for a moment, before finally daring to speak. "Becky…we need to talk."

She nodded. "Yeah. We kinda do."

She gestured for him to take a seat next to her as he sat down, cross-legged, on the couch.

Crane gulped a little, nervously ringing his hands. "Becky…what I am about to tell you is something I haven't shared with anyone."

"Wait…is it about this Scarebeast thing that Croc was talking about?" she asked, her eyes glowing with curiosity.

He sighed. "Yes."

She snorted. "It's no big deal. I mean, it's probably just some threat to make me scared, not like that's going to stop me. I mean, what's it supposed to be? Just some guy in a bear suit going 'Blaaargh!'?" She asked, laughing.

She stopped when she saw Crane's eyes glaring at her. "Sorry," she murmured, sitting back down.

"Look, Becky, if this were anything else, I would be laughing with you. But this is serious, and not something that you should underestimate. It _will_ kill you if you're not careful."

"Okay, I get that. But what exactly is it? Is it just a guy in a suit or is it some monster or what?"

Jonathan sighed. This was going to be hard. There was a reason he hadn't told anybody about this problem that he had, and that was because he hardly knew about the beast himself. During the time he was the Scarebeast, he didn't remember anything about the incident. The only way he knew that he was such a thing was because of blurry video footage of his transformation, as well as waking up half-naked in a wrecked building.

When he finally spoke, his voice was in a hushed whisper. "The Scarebeast is….a…a thing that haunts my nightmares, and many like myself. It's a hulking abomination, a beast full of anger and rage and hunger for the fears of others."

Becky's eyes widened. The Scarecrow was one of the most feared men in Gotham, and with as much exposure as he's had with fear toxin in his line of work, fears were something that he didn't usually feel, let alone express. But this fear…she could practically feel it radiate from him, like that of a vulnerable deer about to be run over by a car. His pupils were dilated and his whole body was shaking. It was quite freaky.

"But…when did this thing appear? I mean, it must have been fairly recent event, based on the fact that none of the reports said anything about who it might be or what exactly it is," Becky asked, thinking back to her previous reports she had written for college on the Rogues and about why they did the things they do. Nowhere did she see anything mentioning a Scarebeast, or who could have unleashed such a beast.

Jonathan smiled sadly. "That's because most of the footage is either destroyed or in the hands of crime lords like the Penguin. Either way, the public is unaware of just what it is. Some people think that it's just a hoax or some mass hysteria that took Gotham by storm."

She raised an eyebrow. "Then how do you know this thing is real?"

"Because I've seen the destruction with my own eyes, Becky. And although I don't remember much of what happened during those incidents, bits and pieces of details have sometimes came back, but most of it is gone. But from those pieces…"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold up! Are you saying that you're the Scarebeast?" Becky exclaimed, completely shocked.

Scarecrow looked down, nodding his head solemnly.

She balked. "But… that's impossible. I mean, I know you're really scary and they'd probably run before trying to get a picture, but I'm not stupid enough to believe that they've never, in your ten years as a Rogue, gotten a picture of you. That's just ridiculous."

Crane shook his head. "That's because you'd barely recognize the Scarebeast as myself. That thing was huge, Becky, from what I could tell, and breathes out large amounts of fear gas, lethal enough to kill at least a hundred men, if not more. Not to mention the gas itself is opaque and creates a smokescreen for the creature, making it hard to hit and almost impossible to bring down."

"Well, there's got to be a way to stop it. You were like this before, right? So that means that you reverted back somehow," Becky replied, desperate for just a little light of hope in this scenario.

"I…I don't know," he said, rubbing his head. The stress of such a threat was eating at his mind, and he couldn't stop his imagination concocting horrible scenarios of destruction and death. All he could see was Gotham surrounded in flames, a shadow of its former self as its buildings fell one by one before a massive, clawed hand.

"Well, who designed the project? Maybe we can force them to give us a cure for your condition and stop this madness!"

"You already know her. Hush was the one who told you the name of the witch who cursed me," Jonathan growled, his eyes flashing briefly at the thought of the woman. She would not get away with that travesty again.

Becky's eyes narrowed in rage as she recalled what Hush had said nearly a month ago. "Linda Friitawa," she spat, as if she had tasted a toxic poison. Disgust and rage filled her as she recalled the terrible nightmares that she had seen him have, his arms flailing and his screams echoing across the spacious warehouse as he struggled against an invisible enemy. To know that this rat of a woman did something terrible enough to her Jonathan to keep him having reoccurring nightmares sickened her, and it took all of her willpower to not think about flying out the door and killing her, Scarebeast or not.

Crane nodded.

"Then we'll go up against her and force her to create a cure for you!" Becky exclaimed, desperate for something she could do, some way she could stop this disaster from happening.

"No. We can't do that either, not unless we wanted to get ourselves killed or experimented on. She's allied with Black Mask, and has hundreds of henchmen under her command. If we tried to force our way in, it would be a disaster."

"Then….then we'll just run away from here, far from Gotham, where she can't follow us," Becky replied desperately, feeling like she was running out of options. Crane didn't know how to revert back to normal when he became the Scarebeast, they couldn't confront Friitawa or her forces without being riddled with bullets, and even now, running away felt like a dim hope.

Jonathan shook his head. "Then she'll make a new one, and make sure that Gotham would be destroyed, along with any city or town we try to run to."

Becky's shoulders slumped as she sighed. "So, what? Do we just wait for the inevitable to happen?"

"Unfortunately," he muttered, his shoulders slumped. He didn't know what they could do to stop this from happening. Everything he could try would fail against her plan. He couldn't sneak in, as she could be anywhere in Gotham, and breaking in too many places would be a good way for him to get caught. He had absolutely no idea where he could find the Riddler, and he was absolutely not risking Becky's life if _she_ caught him.

Becky felt close to tears. She felt scared and powerless, as if someone had sprayed her with fear gas, and no matter what she could do, nothing would stop Friitawa from destroying everything she held dear. She looked at Jonathan. She could feel his stress and frustration at the situation, and she wished she could do something to stop it. She hated seeing him in such stress or fear. Ever since that night, she hurt whenever she saw him like this, cornered and afraid. It made her want to reach out and hug him, to try to comfort him as best she could.

It felt odd that in two months, they had gone from being the greatest of enemies to the greatest of friends. She felt that she could trust him with her secrets, and she rarely felt that way with anybody. His touch calmed her and helped her, whereas others left her feeling vulnerable. He protected her from the other Rogues, and was even willing to defy the Joker to make sure she wasn't harmed.

She knew if she had these thoughts even a year ago, she would immediately push them away and deny them. But now…she accepted them.

He had shown that she meant more to him than anybody else, and that touched her. Nobody had ever shown this much kindness to her, this much thoughtfulness, in her entire life. Her father never got her a kitten for a Christmas present, her friends never stood up for her when someone bigger than them was bullying her, and certainly no one would look at her and not even notice her crippled leg unless she pointed it out.

And this kindness….this…love…was coming from one of the most feared Rogues of Gotham City, maybe even the world, and one who was believed to be unlovable, unlikeable, and certainly one of the most unredeemable people in the entire universe.

She didn't know which side she was supposed to be on. On one hand, she felt honor-bound by her promise to protect the people of Gotham by making sure that people like the Joker and Scarecrow were locked away. But on the other hand, she had her friendship with the rogues and with Jonathan to consider. Among many of what the world considered freaks and outcastes, she had been accepted into their society and treated with the respect that wasn't shown to her in college.

And, even though she tried to deny it, she loved the life of a Rogue. She loved the excitement and danger of it, the challenge it took to elude Batman's tricks and traps, and the adrenaline that running across the city with the one you trust most could bring.

And to have that all end… to have the city she had sworn to protect destroyed and the one she, dare she say it, loved the most enslaved to someone that would only use him filled her to the brim with anger. She didn't care what the odds were. Justice needed to be done, and justice would get done, one way or another. She refused to believe that they were trapped. Her spirit wouldn't even think of that.

"No…" she muttered, her eyes blazing with anger and determination as she left her perch on the seat and began to storm towards the door.

"No what?" Jonathan asked, looking up from his thoughts. "Becky, where are you going?"

"I'm going to stop this madness before it goes out of control."

"What? Are you insane?" Jonathan yelled, immediately blocking her path. "You'll get yourself killed!"

"Better me than the millions of other people in this city," Becky argued, her eyes flaring with determination.

"No! Don't ever talk like that!" Crane snapped angrily, incensed at the idea. He would not lose her, not ever again. He feared that if he lost her this time, she would never come back to him.

"Well then, what _can_ we do? Because it looks like that we have no other option," she snapped back, her hands gripping her cane tightly.

"No! There must be another option! There has to be!" Crane yelled, desperate for some way to keep her from getting killed.

"Why do you even care?" Becky snarled.

"BECAUSE I CAN'T LOSE YOU!" Crane roared, his hands grasping onto her shoulders

"What?" she asked softly, shocked by his outburst.

He pulled her into his embrace, holding her tightly to him as he started to cry. "I…I can't lose you….I can't…." he murmured, tears running down his face.

His reaction shocked Becky. She had never once seen or heard him cry, nor seen him in this much emotional distress. It broke her heart to see him this way, and she had no idea what to do. No one had ever said anything like that to her since she could remember. And for it to come from the Scarecrow, the man she had once despised, was mind-blowing. Did he actually…? _No, I can't get my hopes up. I mean, this is the man that had almost broken me. He could just be stressed, and needing to vent. No one has ever said those things to me, and actually meant them. My father would only say that to me so he could earn my forgiveness when he hurt me. Those bullies only said that to me so that they could control me. What actually makes me think that he wouldn't do that same?_

But as she looked at how small and vulnerable he was, holding onto her like she was a piece of driftwood in an ocean full of agony, she knew that he would never do those things to her. He had proven to her time and again that he wouldn't hurt her. So why was she having such a hard time trusting him now?

"Why can't you lose me?" she asked.

Crane took in a deep breath, before pulling away from her. "Because if I lost you, Becky, there would be nothing to stop me from destroying Gotham and shutting myself away entirely. The Scarebeast runs off feelings of extreme anger and fear. That's why I've been trying to close myself off from others around me. After what Friitawa did, after all that I've been through, I didn't want to feel those emotions anymore. So I locked them away, deep inside of myself, turning to my research in fear to distract myself. Until you came."

"But what does losing me have to do with the Scarebeast?"

"Because my greatest fear…is losing you," he whispered, in a tender voice, gently brushing her curly hair away from her face.

This time, it was Becky who was crying now. That was the sweetest, most adorable thing anybody had ever said to her. She couldn't believe her ears. No one had ever said anything like that to her, and to have it come from Jonathan made her want to cry even more. "Why is that your greatest fear?" she asked.

_This is it, _he thought, his palms growing sweaty with nervousness. He would have to be brave now, and face her decision, for better or for worse. "Because I love you, Becky. I always have, and I always will. And if I lost you, Becky, I would lose everything."

"Jonathan…"

This was it. He was surely setting himself up for rejection now. He braced himself for the inevitable backlash, the disgust of such a monster loving her. He knew the reaction; he had felt it before from his Granny and most everyone he had ever known. But he knew those would hurt a lot less than what he would feel if she rejected him.

"…that was the sweetest, most precious thing anybody has ever said to me. It's kinda funny, if you think about it. I mean, if I told myself a year ago all this would happen, I probably wouldn't have believed it, especially the part about you. Honestly, you've been kinder and sweeter to me that anybody else has in my entire life, and I really appreciate it." She wiped her eyes. "And I just want you to know…that I love you, too."

His eyes widened. She…loved him too? No one had ever said that they loved him before. He was speechless. He had no idea how to react or how to respond. Becky Albright, his former greatest enemy, the one that he had once tried to kill, said that she loved him. This…this changed everything. Could it be that…fear wasn't the most powerful instinct a person could have?

"But…how?" Jonathan asked, scarcely believing what he was hearing. "Why? Why would you ever think of loving somebody like me?"

"Because during this past year, I've gotten to know you, Jonathan, the real you, not the Scarecrow persona you put on to cover the hurt and pain you feel. And I like the person in there. You're not what everybody has said that you are for so long. You're not worthless! You're not weak! And I don't want you believing any of those lies the others have told you, because both you and I know that those aren't the truth," she said, conviction rising in her voice.

"Then what is?" he asked.

"That you deserve love and compassion just as much as everybody else," she said, her eyes radiating certainty and kindness.

Then, slowly, hesitantly, they both leaned towards one another, and their lips met.

And although the kiss was short and chaste, the passion and love behind it still lingered on their lips as they pulled away.

"Wow," he replied, starting to blush. That was the first time anybody had ever kissed him. Ever. And, to his surprise, he quite liked it.

Becky was blushing scarlet as well, the red of her face bringing out the freckles on her cheeks. "Y-Yeah."

They were silent for a few seconds.

"So…where do we go from here?" she asked, unsure of how to respond. How could she when the man she had come to love had given her a kiss? She had never really been kissed like that before. Oh, sure, her father sometimes gave her a kiss, but that was always on her brow and usually a sign of tenderness when he was sober, which she had come to despise as she grew up.

"I…I don't know," he answered, looking away. He had absolutely no idea what to do. The kiss had been unexpected for him, more instinct than actually planning. Funny how those things seemed to sneak up on him when he was around her.

"Should we probably get back to trying to stop Friitawa?" Becky replied, feeling the awkward tension in the room.

"That would be best. And then we can deal with this issue later." Crane agreed, feeling more comfortable now that the tension was gone. Oh, don't get him wrong, he loved it, but there was a time and place for such things to be discussed, and unfortunately, it wasn't right now, in the middle of a crisis.

"Yeah. Good idea."

"And no, we are not charging in there blindly, like you were going to suggest," he said, instantly voting down her previous suggestion.

She crossed her arms, frowning. "Alright, then what do you suggest? Because if I remember correctly, you were suggesting we wait in this hideout like sitting ducks, just ready for her to take a crack at us."

He glared at her. "Don't remind me."

Suddenly, Becky slapped her forehead. "Oh! Of course! How could we have forgotten? The chemical shipment! We can lure her with the chemicals! Hush said that you were working with her, correct? Then it would be reasonable to believe that you two were both working on something related to the fear toxin. If we can lure her to where the shipment is being kept, we can ambush them and take the chemicals, leaving them to Batman."

He slightly tilted his head back and forth. "Hmm, that might actually work. I can't believe I overlooked that. Good job, Becky."

She beamed. It wasn't often that she could figure something out that he could not. "So, when is the chemical shipment supposed to arrive?"

"It's going to arrive tonight. So get ready, we're going to need quite a bit of fear gas if we're going to make this operation work."


	13. Envy and Madness

**Hey, guys. Sorry it's been so long. I've had a lot of tests a few weeks ago, and I didn't have time to update. But here I am now, and I'm sure you guys are going to be in for a treat this chapter as we finally find out just why Friitawa is targeting Becky in the first place. **

Friitawa slammed a fist on her lab table, furious as she watched the video feed from inside Scarecrow's lair. She couldn't believe he had fallen for that little rat's tricks.

She slammed her fist down again, her red eyes flashing with anger. How dare that girl get what she could not? How dare that girl keep her from achieving greatness alongside the man she had perfected her fearful technique. She knew she had more to offer than anything that Albright girl could ever dream of offering him. She was stronger than her, smarter than her, and more capable of bringing enemies to their knees than her.

"Honestly, what can that little rat offer you, Jonathan, that you would fall for her and not me?" she growled, glaring at the monitor. Oh, she had seen how he looked at that girl, how he was kind to her, patient with her, gentle with her, and it absolutely sickened her.

This was not the Jonathan that she knew. The Jonathan she knew would have left her to rot or, if he did keep her, at least experiment on her fears. But no, he didn't even gas her.

And when she saw them kiss, she tore the monitor off the wall and threw it at the back wall, the monitor shattering and buzzing in the rubble.

"Fang! Needles! Report to my chamber now!" she yelled, her grip on her radio threatening to crush it.

Immediately, the two thugs scurried into her chamber, their hands shaking. They knew that when the Mistress was angry, she tended to take it out on her minions in the most gruesome ways possible. But they also knew that, if they didn't come immediately, she would hunt them down and feed them to Croc, which was something that they didn't even want to contemplate.

"Yes, Mistress," they both said at the same time.

"Bring the Hatter to me. It's about time we had a talk," she growled, her black leather coat swishing behind her as she turned.

The two thugs immediately nodded and scurried out of the room.

In a few minutes, they had dragged the Hatter into the room, holding his arms to prevent his escape.

She smiled sinisterly, gesturing for her minions to leave, before walking towards him slowly, her high heeled boots silently tapping the ground, like a panther stalking her prey.

Jervis gulped, a cold shiver running up his spine. While the outfit she was wearing was seductive, showing off ample amounts of cleavage in a red bodysuit-like vest, he knew that such things only belied her savage nature. "W-What do you want?"

"Oh, nothing much, my dear Hatter," she purred, her fingers lightly tapping across his shoulders, like a spider walking up his arm. "Only…why haven't you completed my mind-controller yet?"

"I-It's coming along! I-I-I just n-need a little more time," the Hatter whimpered, his hands twitching and his heartbeat racing.

"Really? Because as I recall, I gave you three weeks to get my project completed," she replied, her tone even and cold. "And yet, you still haven't completed it. Why would that be, dear Hatter?"

"I-It just needs a few modifications. That's all. I-I've never really had to control something that large," he stuttered, starting to back away slowly.

"A few modifications, you say? Then why is it, then, that most of the time I caught you trying to sneak into Alice's cell, hmm?"

The Hatter gulped.

She picked him up by his throat, lifting him high off the ground as he struggled to be let go. "Let me make this very clear, Tetch. If you don't make me the mind control card and controller, then Alice will die and you'll be nothing more than a slave to me. Do I make myself clear?"

He nodded, tears filling his eyes in fright and his entire body shaking.

Seeing that she made her point, she threw him towards the back door, not even bothering to turn. "I'm giving you twelve hours to complete my project, Hatter. If you are not done by that time, Alice Pleasance is dead."

He nodded, running as fast as he could back to the safety of his lab.

He felt trapped here, unable to leave his lab for anything other than an occasional restroom break. Ideas, he knew, couldn't be rushed, especially on the timetable he was on. And knowing that any second wasted could be the death of his dear Alice made his stress all the more heavy.

He could feel his mind start to wander back to Wonderland, and it made him feel frightened. He loved his favorite book and loved to dream about it in his mind, but recently his dreams had become much more sinister.

The characters kept whispering to him, telling him what he should do. The March Hare said that he needed to finish his project, while the sleepy Dormouse kept mumbling about rescuing Alice from the Queen's and the Jabberwocky's card soldiers.

"But how?" he asked them, his voice desperate and thin. He didn't want to betray his best friend, but if he didn't, then Alice would be the one to pay.

"Simple, old chap," the March Hare replied, giggling a bit, before sipping his tea from one of the hundreds of cups on the table. "Make that Jabberwocky think she's won, then while she is distracted, cut all of her card soldiers down and rescue Alice."

"Yeah, that could work. But Alice is a very gentle person. I don't think she would want me to hurt the card soldiers, if I could help it. She's very particular about that," he said, frowning. He knew cutting down the cards would be a death sentence for them, as they would cease to be if they were hacked apart.

"Well, then, just give a slight tap on the head. I'm sure that might just awaken their senses. After all, a good clonk on the head helps me regain my senses," he replied, hiccupping and giggling. "Or lose them. Either way, they'd probably have a lot to think about."

"I-I don't know…" he muttered. As much as he loved Wonderland, he didn't know why the March hare had become so violent. If only he had Alice here with him, she would know what to do. She could help balance this madness out. Or, at least, into a more rational madness.

"Oh, come on, Hatter. They're just cards. There are hundreds of them in her arsenal. It's not like they're actually going to get hurt by you pounding on them. Just a little…flattened."

"Yeah, you're right. You're always right," Jervis replied, the blur between fiction and reality started to fade as he found he wanted to accept this fiction more than his reality. Here, he needn't have to worry about deadlines or threats or anything like that. Here, he could be himself. Here, he could be_ free._

"Aren't we always?" the two animals replied, grinning madly.

The same grin soon spread to Tetch's face, as his eyes started to glaze over, like he was in a trance. "Yes. Yes, you certainly are!"

He gestured to the empty room. "Come along, my friends. I'm going to need your help if I'm going to finish it in time."


	14. Ambush

**Hey, guys. Merry late Christmas to you all. Here is something I made especially for all my loyal reviewers and watchers. Without you guys, while I still would have continued the story, I would not have felt such confidence and pride in my work. Stay tuned for the fourteenth chapter coming soon on New Years Eve. **

**I hope you guys have had some happy holidays!**

"Do you see anything, Jon?" Becky asked, trying to peer into the darkness that clouded her vision. She could barely make out the lone shipment being delivered into the warehouse where they were waiting.

"Not yet," he whispered back, binoculars in his hands as he tracked the truck's movement as it unloaded the cargo from the ship, glancing slightly to the sides to scan for any signs of Friitawa's goons or Batman.

There!

His eyes focused on the small bands of thugs approaching the shipment, motioning for Becky to come closer as he shared his binoculars with her. "Do you think that these people were what Tetch was talking about a few weeks ago?"

She narrowed her eyes, focusing on their features. "I think so. It does fit some of Jervis' descriptions of the goons near the University, but do you think that those are Friitawa's thugs? I mean, those things hardly look human."

"Trust me, those are Friitawa's. She would be sadistic enough to try to genetically alter her thugs to enhance their senses," Crane replied.

The thugs started to carry the shipment off, nearly coming right under where the two were hiding.

"Get ready," he hissed, readying his scythe.

"Don't kill them, though. We'll need them alive in order to know the whereabouts of Friitawa's hideout."

""Fine, but if we have no choice, we will kill them," he huffed, crouching down, ready to spring.

"Alright," Becky replied, mimicking his actions.

When the goons finally were right under them, they leapt from their hiding places and landed near their target, fear gas shaken and ready as they released the gas. They both scattered as the goons opened fire, dodging and rolling to the side as they made their way to the shipment.

Most of the goons scattered, running fearfully away from the scene. A few stood and fought, but they were no match against the two as they weaved and dodged the punches and gunshots, and easily knocked them out.

"Well, that was easy. I thought you said this was going to be difficult," Becky replied, confused. Usually, goons like that were more likely to fight than to run, yet they seemed to scatter and flee quickly, giving up their prized shipment.

"I thought it would. But let's not push our luck."

The two then approached the shipment, preparing to unload the supplies and make off with it.

But as they touched the cargo, the crate exploded, sending them hurtling to the ground as Crane lost consciousness from the blast.

From the shadows nearby, Friitawa grinned as she approached the aftermath of the explosion.

"Looks like the fake shipment worked just as planned," she mused, as she walked towards Jonathan's limp, unconscious body.

Becky slowly lifted herself up onto her knees, struggling to move her hands and knee as she crawled pitifully towards him, wincing as she moved her burned body. "Get away from him," she cried weakly, struggling to stand, only to find her cane knocked out of her hands as Friitawa smashed the hand holding it with her foot, causing her to cry out in pain.

Linda only grinned, smashing her hand down harder. "Foolish girl! Do you honestly think that you can even stand against me? Look at yourself! You can't even take a single step without falling over."

"That doesn't mean I won't try!" she growled, her eyes glaring up at the albino as she struggled to free her hand.

She laughed as she turned away, lifting her foot off of her hand in the process. "Doesn't matter if you do or don't. Nothing can stand in my way. Not even you, in the long run."

"I already know what you're trying to do, Friitawa," Becky cried, as her hand inching towards her cane. If she could just get her fingers around it.

"Oh? You do?" she replied mockingly, turning to face her. "And what might that be?"

"You're trying to unleash the Scarebeast on this city!"

Linda frowned. "Hmph, I'm surprised you figured it out. But yes, that is my plan. Part of it, really."

"What's the other part?"

"Now, why would I reveal that to you? You're not even worth the time I've spent talking to you."

"Then what are you going to do then? Kill me?" she asked, not even flinching as Friitawa glared at her.

She shook her head. "No, I'm far too busy to dirty my hands with your blood. After all," she replied, swiping the cane from Becky's grasp just as the young woman had grabbed it. "Without this, you're no more than dead meat." She whistled, calling her goons to her. "Make sure there's not a single breath left in her body, boys."

The goons grinned, their teeth crooked and black, like the mouth of meth-addicted wolves, their claws ready to slice and dice.

Becky looked up in fear, trying to get up and fight as Friitawa grabbed Crane and slipped into the shadows.

They inched closer and closer, their grins widening as their claws reached out for her, ready to rip and tear into her flesh.

She closed her eyes, awaiting the inevitable.

Suddenly, a greenish-yellow ball rolled near the group, bouncing with a noticeable_ ting-ting-ting_ sound before lightly tapping against one of the goons' foot.

Electricity arced up the ball, electrocuting the goons as the electricity jumped from person to person, causing them to fall over, a slight sizzling sound coming from them as they were knocked out.

Becky slowly peeked one eye open, surprised to find that she wasn't dead as she looked in shock at the bodies around her.

"Well, aren't you going to thank me for saving your life?"

She looked up as she saw the Riddler approach her, his green and gold question-marked suit catching the dirty streetlights.

"After all, I could've just walked away," he replied snarkily, a smirk on his boyish face as he extended his hand to help her up.

"Well, thanks," she said, leaning against the wall for support, shakily maneuvering her other leg to support herself as she grabbed his hand. She looked with worry around her, unable to spot either Friitawa or Crane. "Now, where did Friitawa go?"

He snorted. "How should I know? Am I really supposed to be responsible for every single criminal in this city?"

Her eyes narrowed into a glare. "I don't have time to play games, Riddler. Jonathan is in grave danger, and if I don't stop Friitawa, all of Gotham will be destroyed."

He snorted. "You? But what can someone like you do about it? You can barely walk," he stated, gesturing towards her lame leg.

"I don't know, but I've still got to try. It's the least I can do for him, after all he's done for me," she said, trying to hobble along, with the Riddler slowly following her.

He raised an eyebrow. Here was a woman, who was small and could barely walk, who was going to face at least half of Black Mask's men with nothing but her fists. He couldn't help but admire her determination, even though he knew it would only result in her death.

"Well, if you're going to be facing her alone, how are you going to survive long enough to even get to her and rescue your beloved boyfriend?" he asked, grinning as he saw Becky blush.

"He's not my boyfriend," she muttered, trying to hide her blush. "But you do have a fair point. As much as I would like to storm her warehouse, I don't even know where it is or how I'm going to get past her defenses.

"Then I suppose you have no choice but to rely on me to get in," said the Riddler, twirling his cane.

"So, will you help?" she asked, her hopes beginning to rise.

"Hmm, let me think… eh, no." he replied, a coy grin on his boyish face.

Becky's hand curled into a fist. No wonder Jonathan hated this guy. He was more annoying than that annoying dog in that hunting arcade game. Just seeing his grinning face made her want to jab him right in the nose. "Then if you won't offer me help, then just get out of my way! Besides, you'll just be another dead body by the time this is over."

"Maybe, maybe not. You can't guarantee that."

She sighed. "No, I can't. But I know that Jonathan will be, if I don't get there in time." She tried to shuffle along, only for her grip to slip and cause her to tumble to the ground. She tried sitting up, a growl of frustration coming from her.

The Riddler, feeling sympathetic, helped her up, letting her lean on his question-mark staff as she slowly pushed herself up from the wall.

"But why do you hold him to such high value, Becky? Why take the risk that you'll be killed just so he can be safe?"

"It's because I love him, Riddler. And I love Gotham, despite how much it has hurt me over the years. And if you love someone or something, you'll do anything to protect them," she replied, her gaze hardening as she thought of the millions of people that were in danger. "And if Friitawa gets her way, Riddler, there will be nothing left of Gotham. Business will plummet, people will be too afraid to go out of their homes, and to make matters worse, the whole Justice League will probably be swarming the city."

The Riddler's eyebrows rose in shock. He had not figured that into the frame. He had assumed that Friitawa was just trying to keep tabs on her enemy, much like he did for his. He hadn't expected her to be bent on citywide destruction, although, in hindsight, he probably should have thought about it before agreeing to such a small portion of information as a reward. And, though he would not admit it, he, too, cared about his home, and he didn't want his city to be ruled by someone as cruel as Friitawa. Plus, if she had her way, he would get no reward for his troubles, and she would probably stab him in the back once she was done with him.

Slowly, he started to smirk. "You make a fair point. Very well, Miss Albright. I will help. I can get you past the cameras and guards, and I can lead you to your cane, but that's all I can do. The rest will be up to you."

And for the first time in long time, Scream felt hope as she started to formulate a plan to stop Friitawa once and for all.


	15. Awakening the Monster

**Hello, everyone and Happy New Year to you all. I have a great treat for you all in this chapter. I still think it's one of my best ones, and is when things really heat up. **

**So, I hope that you have a great year and enjoy the story. **

When Crane opened his eyes, all he could see was just a blur of lights and colors, hazy and indistinct. His vision swam, his mind filled with a blurry fog, as if he had been drugged. His ears were ringing, and he could barely keep his vision focused, even when he tried to squint. He tried to move his arms and legs, only to find them unresponsive and numb, as if he had been given anesthesia before he had awoken.

He could see a white-clad figure coming towards him, her boots making slight taps on the floor as she moved her booted feet.

"Ah, I see you are awake, my dear Scarecrow," the figure spoke, her voice smooth and sly, like that of a predator talking to its prey.

He couldn't place the voice yet, his mind swimming in the fog. "Who-Who are you? You sound…familiar."

"Oh, Jonathan, did you honestly forget the one who worked with you at such a critical moment in your career?" she asked, her voice dripping with sickly sweetness.

Instantly, the fog in his mind cleared, and he could focus again on just who was talking to him and remembered how he had gotten into this situation. _She must have wanted me alive for a reason, otherwise she would have killed me with that blast instead of making it just knock me out,_ he thought, watching her closely. _I must make her think that I am on her side, then, when she is distracted, I'll strike._ "No, I couldn't forget someone that I had once worked with so closely. But I am surprised that you seem so keen to get my attention, Friitawa. One would almost think you were working on something big in store for our little friend, the Bat."

The albino's lips curled into a savage smile. "Oh, yes. I am working on something big, my dear Scarecrow. Something that will bring both Batman and Gotham to its very knees in terror."

"Oh? And what might that be?" he asked in eagerness, trying to bite back the sour feeling in his stomach about what she might be planning involving the Scarebeast.

"Patience, sweetie. All will be revealed in due time," she replied, her red eyes watching him lustfully.

He couldn't help but shiver when she finally turned away from him to fiddle with the monitors. He understood now how Becky must have felt with his stalking. The way she looked at him couldn't help but cause him to feel queasy. Not to mention he was already feeling pretty weak from the explosion's toll on his body.

"But first, about this new girl that you've been seen with…why do you seem so interested in her company? It's not like you, to be suddenly so interested in some nobody like her," she asked, her mock sweetness barely covering the hatred in her voice.

His eyes narrowed, but he kept his face stoic and his tone moderate. "Perhaps. But she does have her uses."

"Oh? And what can she offer you that I can't?" she asked, her fingers dancing along his shoulders, much to his annoyance.

"Loyalty, compassion, kindness, integrity. Things that I'm sure that you know all too well," he said, saying his last sentence sarcastically.

"Oh, Jonathan…do you really think I'm that callous? I treated you with kindness once upon a time, didn't I? Why can't we go back to those times, times where we worked as co-workers, partners, pioneers of Fear, hmm?" she asked, mock hurt in her voice.

Jonathan growled. He was tired of her coy mocking and lustfully glances at him. He didn't know why he had ever thought she had been his friend. Everything about her screamed fake, from her voice to her face to even the way she held herself. He couldn't stand it. If not for his currently weakened state of body and mind, he would have sprayed her with enough fear gas to put her into a vegetative state. "That's because you betrayed me, mutated me into a monster."

She smirked as she saw the yellow glare of his eyes intensifying. "But isn't that what you wanted, my darling Scarecrow? Power to make Gotham fall to its knees in fear? Power to make all those nasty people like your grandmother suffer the terror of their own nightmares and superstitions?"

"Don't talk about my life as if you know it, Friitawa! You know nothing about me!" he snarled, his sulfurous eyes glaring at her with fury.

This time, she started to laugh. "I know nothing about you, do I? Like how I know that you decided to bring that little tramp into your life even though she put you in Arkham singlehandedly not once, but twice in the same week? Like how I know about how you train her and look at her like she's fear wrapped in a nice little bow? How you _kissed_ her?" she asked, practically spitting the last word out. "Oh, yes. I know everything about what you two were doing."

His eyes widened as he now fit the entire puzzle together. "You mean you constructed all this elaborate trap, this whole scheme, on just some petty rivalry with her?"

She chuckled, her red eyes leering at him evilly. "I'm not surprised you figured it out. I wouldn't expect anything less from someone who has a Doctorate in Psychology. As you might have guessed, I am jealous of her. Why should she deserve all your attention? Why does she get to be called the Mistress of Fear, when, without me, you would have not had such a potent mix in the first place? Why do you choose her and not me, when I have the clear advantage over her and would be much more of an asset to your cause than that stupid little girl? I made your success possible! I made these abominations that I call henchmen with only my knowledge of chemicals and the combination of the Scarebeast formula and my own! I gave you the power to destroy all your enemies if you so wish it! So why do you not use it?" She asked, bellowing out all her rage and hate at him.

Crane knew this was dangerous for him. Already, he could feel stiffness in the nerves of his legs, as if they were completely rigid and unmovable, like heavy pieces of lumber. He knew that was not good at all, but he couldn't help but feel enraged at her insults to Becky. Friitawa needed to learn her place. "First off," he growled, his eyes blazing with fury. "Becky is not stupid. She might be inexperienced in this game, but she has the potential to learn and become just as strong as you or I, if given the chance. Secondly, I chose her because she keeps her word and loyalty to what she believes, which is more than I can say for most of the people in this cesspit of a city! She's better than you or I, Friitawa, and truly, I didn't choose her. She chose me."

Friitawa's eyes narrowed as he continued, the button already pushed to call in her secret weapon as her eyes narrowed with rage.

"There's more to life than just fear and betrayal. So what that she has to walk with a cane? So what that she can't do the things that we can do? I don't have all the fancy gadgets that Batman has, and yet I've taken him down, on more than one occasion with just my fear toxin and wits."

He started to chuckle. "And now, you barely have that. All this money, all this power, and yet you can't stop your inevitable fate. Or do you not know the long term affects of mixing Venom with other steroids and enhancers?"

"How-"

"It was simple, really," he gloated, feeling like he had turned the tables of this game. "The chemicals you were using for your main experiments with genetics were unstable by itself. Using Venom, you managed to keep the compound stable, for a time. And once you decided to betray me and mutate me into the Scarebeast, you took the rest of the chemicals for yourself, as well as the serum you made to cure yourself of your albinism. You probably figured that the serum was stable enough to last long enough to bond to your bloodstream. But it didn't, did it?"

He could tell he was ruffling her feathers, but he couldn't help the feeling of finally sticking it to her all the troubles and the mess she had shoved on him all those years ago.

"Oh, it lasted a while. A few months, a year, at least. But then it began to wear off. So you tried and again, but nothing could stop the poison in your bloodstream that was slowly killing you. And that's why you need me, isn't it? Because without my blood, you would die. But when you found Becky, it became personal. You hated the fact that I was finally happy with someone that was not you. So, you designed your plan, trying to scare us into submission, trying to cow us into a corner. And when that failed, you kidnap me to get the results you want and stick it to her that you were better than her."

She started to laugh, a long and low laugh that chilled his spine. "Very good. You figured out my plan. Congratulations," she replied, sarcasm dripping down her words as she started to clap a few times. "But that won't stop anything."

"Maybe not," he admitted, already feeling the itching feeling of his skin and bones converting to wood as it started to race up his neck. "But that won't stop me from making sure you are done for, once and for all." He raised his massive wooden hand, ready to smash her into the ground like a flattened albino pancake.

Only to find his arm frozen in the air. He willed it to move, to crush her and end her, but he couldn't move it at all.

"**What's going on**?" he roared, trying to will himself to move, only to be stuck in place.

Friitawa laughed. "You didn't think that I would have been stupid enough to talk to you without some guarantee of protection for myself. I know perfectly what you are capable of, and I can't let my plan fail that easily."

She pulled out a bracelet-like object from around her wrist, a single solitary red, blinking light shining in the middle of it.

Jonathan's eyes widened in horror as he realized what he was seeing. He knew that device anywhere. Tetch often used it to control his laboratory mice back when he was still employed at WayneTech and once he became a criminal, on people. With this device, he could make people do whatever it was he wanted, just by thinking of it.

"Oh yes, I captured your little friend, Jervis. And, with a little convincing, got him to make me one of his special cards, just for you. And he was so happy to do it as well. He was practically beaming!" she shouted.

"But that doesn't matter. Soon, Gotham will kneel before me as its mistress and queen! Ah hahahahahaha!" she cackled, as the Scarebeast roared.


	16. Break In

Both Becky and the Riddler stopped in there tracks as a massive roar shook the landscape, sending Becky crouching on the ground as the massive rumbling followed, sending the concrete nearly jumping from the impact.

"What on earth was that?" she asked, her heart pounding as she scrambled to her feet.

The Riddler's eyes widened. "We need to hurry. It's already started." he cried, as he took her arm and started to run towards the warehouse.

"What started?"

"If that roar is enough to go by, we were too late to stop Friitawa from transforming him. But we still have enough time to get in and find her before she decides to kill Jervis and Alice," he replied, starting to hack into the security files of the building.

"Jervis and Alice are in there?" she cried, anxiety filling her heart. If Jervis and Alice were in there, then that meant Friitawa needed him for controlling Jonathan, and was using Alice as leverage against him.

"Yes! We're in," he whooped, pulling his green computer out and downloading the information onto it.

"Thanks, Riddler. I owe you, one," she said, already sprinting for the opened entrance.

"Wait, take this," he said, tossing her an earpiece. "You'll need it if you want to get your cane and get to Friitawa."

She smiled, putting it into her ear. With a final nod towards her ally, she entered into the darkened warehouse.

Inside the warehouse, a tiny screw came loose, followed by its three other brothers as the Hatter made his way out of the ventilation shaft. His eyes were wild and mad, darting here and there, with a glass-eyed look of a snake about to shed its skin. His left eye kept twitching as he muttered to himself.

One of the guards who were posted outside his door noticed the man and approached him. "Hey, you're not supposed to be out of your cell."

The Hatter continued to mumble to himself, in a barely audible whisper. "_'Twas Brillig, and the slithy toves…_"

"Hey! I'm talking to you," he shouted, grabbing onto the littler man's sweater vest.

"…_Did gyre and gimble in the wabe: All mimsy were the borogoves_," he continued to softly chant in a trance. And quick as lightning, he took his mallet and slammed it into his head, causing the man to fall into the wall with a sickening crack of his head as he collided with it, falling dead at the Hatter's feet. All while the smaller man continued his poem, stalking the corridors as he looked for Alice. _"…And the mome raths outgrabe_."

Alice looked up from her seat in the middle of the room. She could almost sense something was wrong. She could hear banging and several muffled screams coming from what she could guess were the guards that patrolled outside her cell. What on earth was going on out there? There was no window through which to see out of, only a blank wall with a barred, metal door that only unlocked from the outside.

She wiggled in her seat, trying to twist herself free from her bounds, but they were bound too tightly to budge. So, she tried rocking herself back and forth in her chair, tipping it along on its sides until, finally, the chair fell over on its side, sending Alice crashing down with it.

She huffed when she found she had only gotten herself tipped onto her side, which proved almost useless for her to get to her feet. She tried rolling to the other side, and managed to at least get into an upright position. Now, if only she could get her hands untied.

The Riddler checked on Becky's progress as he guided her down the hallways of the warehouse, careful to keep her away from any of numerous cameras that were posted along the hallways as well as the guards patrolling them. She was making good progress on the way, and she was nearly where Friitawa was keeping her cane.

"~Okay, I'm approaching a door. Is there any guards on the other side?~" Becky asked, her voice coming through the headphones he had plugged into his computer to communicate with her.

"No. They seem to be busy with a disturbance on the west side of the warehouse from where you are." He paused as he looked at one of the monitors in his lair. "Wait, there seems to be some security protocols in there that I need to decode. Hold on."

Becky waited patiently as she heard him typing onto his computer. She looked nervously around, making sure that no guards were coming near them as the Riddler decoded the code.

She was rewarded for her patience with a slight _whoos_h as the door opened. Looking this way, then that, she lunged into the room, crossing the threshold before the door closed behind her.

Only for her to freeze in place as she came face to face with a gigantic beast of a guard. He roared at her, causing her to kick herself back as his massive, gorilla-like hands slammed into the concrete floor.

"I thought you said that they were busy on the west side!" Becky shouted, dodging again as the massive giant swung his fists at her.

"~They were. Apparently, this one decided to stay,~" he replied sarcastically.

"Really? I wouldn't have guessed," she bit back, barely avoiding getting her head smashed in as she dodged a hit.

"~Calm down. I'm sure you can get past him.~"

"Easy for you to say, Nigma. You're not the one in a cramped hallway, trying to dodge a fist from over here!" she yelled, trying to dodge and wiggle her way through to the other side, only to find her way blocked by the guard's fists and massive bulk.

Then, as he charged again at her, she threw herself to the ground as he raced nearer and nearer to her. And just as he was about to run past her, she held her staff out, tripping him and causing him to bury his face into the nearby wall.

Not wanting to wait around while he dug his head out, Becky lunged into the room, breathing a sigh of relief as it closed and locked behind her.

But now she had other problems to attend to besides just a hulkish henchman. Her cane was locked in a glass display case, with numerous keypads attached to the door of the glass cage to make sure no one but their Mistress could unlock it.

"Alright, I got past him. But how do I get my cane out?" she asked into her earpiece, hoping that the Riddler knew the numbers to these keypads, otherwise, she would have to face Friitawa with just his staff, and with her luck, she probably wouldn't survive the fight.

No, she would need range and distance to confront Fright, and she could only do that with the attachments in her cane.

"~Hmm, this is unexpected,~" the Riddler muttered.

"What is?" she asked.

"~Apparently, these were set up by Friitawa herself. I don't know the password for these machines,~" he replied. "~But, I'm sure with my superior brain and computer hacking skills, that the code will be a cinch.~"

Another tremor shook the building, with Becky barely keeping her balance. "Well, I hope you can hurry it up, smarty pants. We don't have much time."

"~Give me a minute. These are WayneTech locks, they're a bit more complicated than the regular security ones.~" he replied, frantically typing into his keyboard.

Just then, the goon whom Becky had battled bashed his way into the room. Spotting her, he roared, and charged towards her direction.

"Riddler, now would be a good time!" she yelled into the microphone, leaping towards the side as he crashed into the wall, pulling himself out of the cracked hole he had made in the wall and was ready to charge her way again.

"~One second, Becky!~" he growled, still frantically typing away. These firewalls were relentless, and were constantly hijacking his attempts to even input the codes, not to mention keep the alarms and the cameras inside the room from ringing and alerting Friitawa to his and Becky's presence.

Becky lunged towards the opposite wall as he charged again. She needed a way to bring this brute down. But how?

Just then, her eyes caught sight of the display, and she grinned as she came up with a plan. Moving into position in front of the display, she then whistled loudly. "Hey, Gluteus Maximus! Over here!"

The goon roared, charging straight towards her.

Becky held her ground, silently counting. _1…2…3! _She dove under his legs, sliding forward as the goon, who realized too late just what he was crashing into, tried to slow down. But the momentum couldn't be stopped, and he crashed into the pillar holding up the display case, causing it to lean forward and shatter onto the floor, freeing the trapped cane.

With a smile, she retrieved her cane, hugging it close to her. She was so happy to have it back. Now, all she had to do now was find her friend and stop Friitawa.

Suddenly, the alarm bells around the room started to clamor, causing her ears to ring.

"Nigma, what's happening?"

"~What do you think is happening, Becky? She found us. You need to move! Now!~" he yelled above the claxon of the ringing bells.

"I know that, genius," she snapped, lunging her way towards the door. She made her way around the hallway, trying to retrace her steps back to the main door. She needed to find a safe place to store the staff. She knew the Riddler would be pretty ticked if something happened to it. Already, the henchmen were tailing her, trying to catch the elusive mouse that managed to sneak past their security.

She fiddled with one of the pockets of her costume, pulling out three small spherical fear bombs. These were her last ones, so she had to make sure they lasted long enough for her to get to Friitawa.

Flicking one behind her, she held her breath as she raced towards the entrance. She stopped momentarily, just enough to catch her breath as she deposited the staff just outside the door of the entrance.

Looking back enough to make sure that the fear gas kept them busy, she dashed towards the east side, hoping to find a way to free her friend before Friitawa found her first.


	17. Caught in a Dream

**Hey, guys. Sorry it's been so long. I've gotten the whole story written out now, so the next chapters will be out in the following weeks. I wanted to thank everybody who has reviewed or viewed my story. You guys give me a lot of hope, and that goes a long way in my world. So, I hope you enjoy.**

The Mad Hatter shambled through the hallways, a trail of blood in his wake as he heaved his heavy croquet hammer over his shoulder, his eyes still glazed with madness.

All around him, he could see he was nearing the Red Queen's fortress, where his beloved Alice was trapped. And it was up to him to make sure Alice was rescued and safe. After all, if Alice was dead, order and tyranny would engulf Wonderland, and he knew that the Red Queen would bathe in the blood of all their citizens if she got the chance.

As he made his way through her hedge maze labyrinth, he prepared himself for what he must face. He had already taken out several of the Queen's card soldiers as he made his way towards the castle, but now he knew that he would be facing his greatest challenge yet: trying to infiltrate her fortress. He prayed that he didn't awaken the Jabberwock while he was rescuing Alice. He doubted either of them had the strength to face that thing yet.

As he shambled his way towards the massive door, he wondered where Alice would be kept. He needed to rescue her quickly, before the Queen decided to chop off her head.

And as the door slowly opened, he prepared himself for whatever lay behind it.

Alice finally finished cutting through the rope that bound her hands, rubbing her wrists where the rope had burned her, her car key grasped in her fingers.

Her hands now free, she quickly twisted around and undid the rope that bound her to the chair and finally got up, stretching a bit. "Whew! Glad I'm finally out. Now, I need to find where they are keeping Jervis."

She tried the door, but it refused to budge. She tugged again and again, but it still refused to yield to her strength. She huffed, before suddenly thinking of an idea. Pulling out a bobby pin from her hair, she started to shape it into a lock-pick. She hoped her idea worked; otherwise she would be stuck here unless someone let her out. _Years of getting locked out of my dorm and forgetting the key, don't fail me now,_ she silently prayed as she maneuvered the tiny pin into the lock.

With a click, the door opened before her.

Alice grinned, and stepped out of the door for the first time in weeks. She hoped she would find Jervis soon and get out of here. She could only hope she was not too late.

The Mad Hatter let out a sigh of relief as the last card soldier collapsed. He had expected, when the door opened, to be beset by a deck of card soldiers, but he had not expected just how many would be in there.

pBut now that the last card soldier was unconscious, he made his way into the castle.

He saw a long hall of corridors, each branching off into a different room.

"Hmm, now which room? Which room?" he said to himself, looking around. Alice had to be behind one of these doors. He just didn't know which. There were dozens of rooms, each stretching in a different direction.

He closed his eyes, his finger pointed to one of the rooms. "Alright. Eeny, Meeny…"

Alice ran down the corridor, trying to find her way out of the maze of cellblocks and doors. She could've sworn that she was in the abandoned Gotham P.D. building with so many cells around her. And what she saw within them frightened her.

There were many dead men in the cells, their faces ripped to shreds and their bodies torn asunder, as if a mighty animal had been unleashed into the cell with them.

She didn't want to think about what could be capable of taking such a huge chunk out of those men, so she continued to run.

As she turned down another hallway, she gasped as a guard spotted her.

"Hey, girly. Care to take a step closer?" the goon said, flicking his forked tongue towards her.

With a scream, she ran in a panic. She didn't know what that henchman would do to her, but she certainly didn't want to find out.

But behind her, the goon was gaining fast, and, if she didn't go faster, would soon overtake her.

She urged her feet to she tripped, and the guard pounced on her, his claws digging into her flesh.

A small flash of green flew past her, and she found she was suddenly released. She looked behind her, and was astonished to find Jervis fighting off the monstrous man.

The Mad Hatter looked up from his search when he heard Alice's scream. Dropping everything, he quickly followed the direction of the scream. But what he found made his blood boil.

Alice was there, all right. But so was that…. that horrible lizard, Billy. It must have found his dear Alice again. He thought it was long gone by now. But it must have not been satisfied with Alice's answer, for now he was after her, ready to do unspeakable things to her if he didn't intervene.

With a roar, the Hatter launched himself at the anthropomorphized lizard, his mallet raised as he smashed the lizard's head again and again, bludgeoning it senseless as he let all of his pent-up rage and frustration out in his mallet swings, his eyes wild with fury and madness as he let all his emotions run wild.

He could feel someone pulling on him, calling him, but he couldn't hear anything over the roaring fury in his mind. He pushed it away, not wanting to be held down, suppressed. He hated that, and he would rather die than go back to that prison that Jabberwock had put him in.

Just as he pulled back for another swing, Alice dove between him, separating him from his target. "Jervis, stop!" she cried.

"Alice?" he asked, bewildered and confused. What was she doing? Why was she defending that no-good lizard that had stolen her away from him? Did she love him? No, no, that couldn't be it. She had said that the lizard had betrayed her to the Red Queen. And certainly no one who ever truly loved somebody would ever want to betray the one they loved.

"Please, just stop!" she cried, grasping his shoulders, fear in her eyes as she looked into the glassy eyed stare of the Hatter. She didn't know what to do. She had never seen him like this, even in his worst incident with her. It was like he had shut out the world around him, closing off all portions of his memory that dealt with the real world, and instead opened up the floodgate of all his imaginations of Wonderland.

"Why? He's not dead. Just knocked out," he said, unaware of just what he had just done. "Besides, I'm rescuing you, Alice. I don't think I could have done that without knocking those cards out."

Alice's eyes widened as she just now realized how deep he had delved into Wonderland. "Jervis, those weren't cards. Those were people."

The Hatter became stunned for a moment, before suddenly starting to laugh. "Oh, Alice, you're so silly. Cards aren't people. They may look like people, but they're not."

"No, those were people, Jervis. I don't what you are seeing or what you're thinking right now, but this isn't you. You don't kill. You don't act like this. Please, wherever you are, just come back to earth. Please! I'm worried about you, Jervis."

The Hatter looked hurt. "But…but why would you say that, Alice? Don't you like Wonderland? Don't you enjoy it here, with me and my tea and all our friends?" he asked, thinking about their wonderful tea party they had the month before with the March Hare and the plucky field mouse.

She smiled ruefully. "I know. And I do enjoy it, Jervis. But I enjoy it with you, though. And right now, I'm in the real world."

"But…But can't you just go back to Wonderland, where we belong?" he asked, his voice small and tiny and his lip quivering, "Why do we have to go back?"

"Because sometimes we don't always get what we want, Jervis," she replied firmly, her eyes serious and no-nonsense. "Sometimes, to make others happy, you have to sacrifice your own happiness. It's painful, yes, but ultimately you get back more than you sacrificed."

He scowled at her, his grip tightening on his mallet. "But why should I give up my happiness for anyone, when they'll just throw it back in my face? Why should I sacrifice something, when they'll just spit it back into my face?" he snarled at her, his eyes blazing and his shoulders shaking, looking like he was either going to start maniacally laughing or wailing in sadness.

"Jervis…"

"No! I won't go back! Never! This is all a trick! All of it! Y-You're nothing but a Jabberwock disguised as my dear Alice!" he howled, quivering with sadness and anger. He couldn't trust anyone now, not Alice, not the March Hare, not anyone. He didn't know what was real or what was fake anymore. Everything was spiraling down the rabbit hole, and he was the only one not falling.

"I'm not the Jabberwock, Jervis," she replied softly, trying to calm him down. She was very worried that the mallet was going to come for her next if she didn't convince him that she was not going to betray him.

"How can I be sure?" he wailed, starting to break down in front of her. "How can I be sure of anything? Everything I know…everything I love… it's going to die. It's all going to die." Tears were streaking down his cheeks, his hands curling into claws in his blonde hair as despair filled his heart.

"It's not going to die, Jervis, as long as you don't let it," Alice replied, trying to soothe her friend as he continued to wail. She put her arms around him, his tears dripping down her back.

"Yes, it is. The Jabberwocky is tearing it apart. And I can't do anything to stop it. The story is ending, and I can't do anything about it," he whimpered, clutching her tightly, as if she was his lifeline, the only part of the story that wasn't being pulled into the vortex of madness.

"You can, Jervis. The story doesn't have to end," she replied encouragingly.

"What do you mean?" he asked, confused. Everything seemed to stop in its tracks. He knew stories had to end. Every story ended, in some way or another. Why did she think that this story didn't have to end this way?

""Make your own story, then. Continue where this one left off. Just because one story has to end doesn't mean that yours has to as well." She held out her hand. "Take my hand, Jervis, and we'll write our own story together."

And for the first time in weeks, the Hatter smiled. "Yes. You're right, Alice." He took her hand, and allowed himself to exit Wonderland as it returned to its natural state.


	18. Defiance

**Hey, guys. This is it. The climax approaches, and the story is starting to draw to its end. I hope you're as pumped to read this chapter as I was writing it.**

**So, here it is. **

**The final fight that we've all been waiting for.**

**Who will be the victor? Read on, my fellow watchers, and see.**

Becky peeked down the empty hallway, her ears alert for any footsteps that would signal that she was either being followed or someone was coming back through her hallway.

All the while, she was thinking of how to get the Scarebeast under control. _Okay, so what do I know so far?_ She asked herself, mentally checking through her plan as she snuck through the halls._ I know that Friitawa captured Alice and Jervis a few weeks ago and forced him to build a mind control card strong enough to use on Jonathan when he transformed. Jonathan told me the cards are useless unless there is a controller to use it. So, it would make sense that Friitawa would have the controller on her so that she could control his actions remotely. So, to get Jonathan back to normal, I need to either somehow subdue her and get the controller or jump on Jonathan and get the card out._

She sighed. Both plans sounded like suicide, but that was the only way to revert Jonathan to his normal state and stop Friitawa before she could destroy the entire city. She knew she was already too late to stop some of the city from falling into fear, as the terrified screams and cries outside told her. She willed her leg to move faster, trying to get to him before it was too late.

As she stopped at the end of the hallway, she could see a ladder leading up to the roof. She was thankful that this area had been a small business district before the economic crash, as she could hopefully make it to the top and have enough height to hop onto the Scarebeast once he was near the building and enough width to keep her distance from Friitawa if she decided to engage her.

But another challenge was going to be that ladder in front of her. With her crippled leg, she would have to rely on mostly her arms to pull herself onto each individual rung.

She took a deep breath, and began to climb, her cane hanging by her shoulder as she hung onto the rungs, her limp leg dangling behind her like a tail as she climbed.

Her arms were straining as she climb, but she was determined to press onward. She didn't know how she knew, but she could feel that Friitawa was waiting for her on the roof. She continued to climb higher, her eyes focused on the higher railings. She knew she would likely freeze if she looked down, and she didn't have that amount of time to hang there.

She glanced to her side. She could see the nameplates of the levels of the building, and she knew that she had a long way to go before she would reach the top.

Friitawa looked in gleeful triumph as she watched the Scarebeast trample the towering skyscrapers of Gotham City. From her perch on the roof, she could see the progress that her new pet was making as he rampaged across the city.

Police sirens wailed in the night amid the sounds of people screaming in terror as fear gas filled the air as she took in a deep breath, reveling in the sounds of screams as countless people tried to flee from the terror she had wrought upon this city.

Even the Caped Crusader and his friends, the Justice League, could do nothing to stop it. Even Superman, know throughout the cosmos as the Man of Steel, was powerless against Scarebeast's noxious Fear Gas, his powers going out of control as he battled the unseen terrors in his mind, destroying anything in his path as the others tried to curb his powerful eyebeams and super strength.

Everything was going perfectly. The Justice League was incapacitated, Jonathan was under her control, and the city was falling to its knees in defeat. Soon, she would prove herself worthy of not just Jonathan's fear, but also everything and everyone's in the world and throughout the cosmos. She could feel excitement coursing through her veins at the thought of such power.

"Hmm, it seems you are as much of a tenacious nuisance as I've heard, Rebecca," she replied, sensing the girl's presence from her perch on the rooftop.

"What can I say? I'm hard to get rid of," Becky replied, her cane ready and curved at Friitawa's back, scythe opened and ready to slice.

The albino turned her head. "So it seems." She held out her hands to the sky, basking in the fear radiating off the city. "Isn't it glorious, Rebecca? All those people screaming in agony and fear, unable to run away, unable to fight, just succumbing to the inevitable terror that claims us all."

"There's nothing glorious about it, Friitawa. Those people are dying down there!" she cried, watching in horror as the Scarebeast stomped down on a red convertible, smashing it into pieces with one blow of his foot as the thing continued to tramp onwards towards his goal, his teeth-filled maw calling her name as fear filled his eyes, while he could do nothing to stop its own rampage. Fear gas crawled like fog upon the streets of Gotham, screaming and sirens filling the night in an unholy cacophony of terror.

"What of it? They are weak, pathetic sheep that do nothing but serve the wolves that they are under. Why should they have anything but what sheep are good for? A _slaughter_."She turned to face the girl. "Why do you even care? You should be enjoying this with me. I know Jonathan would. After what they did to us, Rebecca, they deserve what is coming to them."

"No, they don't. None of us do," she snarled. "Not me, not Jonathan, not anyone. A world living in fear will collapse in on itself. People will be tearing each other apart from the inside out. Only a few, if any, will survive."

"But that's how the world works, isn't it, Rebecca? It's Survival of the Fittest, after all. And I know I am the fittest." She started to chuckle, as she reached into her lab coat's pocket and pulled out a circular rod. She pressed a button on its side, and it unslid to reveal a long, black and white scythe. "But, I'll, at least, give you a little chance to fight. After all, fear is all the sweeter by crushing what remains of hope."

With a roar, Friitawa surged towards Becky, aiming right for her throat. Becky ducked her head out of the way of the woman's blow, parrying with her scythe as Friitawa unleashed a flurry of attacks on her at almost inhuman speed.

Becky leapt out of the way as quick as she could, Friitawa's scythe scraping upon hers as she backed away, unable to counterattack without providing an opening for the albino to attack.

"Is that all you can do, dear plucky Becky?" she asked mockingly, as the girl struggled to get up. As the woman taunted her, Becky flicked one of her fear bombs towards her, blinding her enough to strike back, only to find that Friitawa parried her blows perfectly, not even appearing to be alarmed or even struggling against her blows.

"Pathetic," Friitawa exclaimed, knocking Becky back with the handle of her scythe, the scythe/cane sent flying off the roof and sending Becky teetering precariously over the side of the roof, struggling to keep her balance. Before she slid off the edge, the albino grabbed her by her throat, holding her high above the edge of the roof and threatening to drop her into the glass vat of chemicals full of the mutagen below her, which, with enough exposure, would melt her skin and bones until it was nothing but paste. "So, Rebecca Albright, how does it feel to know that the last thing you hear will be your precious Jonathan screaming?"

With a snarl, Becky spat in her face. "Go. To. Hell!" she ground out, her eyes staring defiantly at the monster before lashing out with her good foot, kicking Friitawa in the stomach as the albino let her go, sending her falling towards the ground far below her.

Friitawa's surprised expression was the last thing Becky saw as she fell to her death, her vision fading to black as she heard the crash of her head hitting the aged bricks of the other building and the shattering of glass all around her, and then all was silent.

Friitawa looked down at the body of Becky Albright below her, tisking slightly. "Shame. I would have wanted that fight to last a bit longer." She turned away, going back to observe her magnificent beast destroy the city.

Then, she stopped. A sudden thought had just hit her. She had only tested out the prototype of the formula on herself. The toxin she developed and had tested on her goons had been with the other steroids and DNA mixed in. The batch she had currently, which Becky had crashed into, was the one where she had mixed both her serum and the one she had tested on the Scarecrow. As she had never combined them before, she had no idea what was going to even if the chemicals somehow bonded with her bloodstream, a fall like that, at that trajectory, would have killed her. After all, it's not like the serum could restore life. Could it?


	19. Rebirth

**And now, ladies and gentlemen, here we are. The final battle between Becky and Friitawa is here. The fate of both Gotham and Jonathan's fate hangs in the balance. Let me tell you, I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, and I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I loved writing it.**

**By the way, minor change in Scarebeast's height. Having only read the ****_As the Crow Flies wiki page, _****I didn't know his relative scale to Gotham's structures, so I made up my own. So if it kinda seems like Godzilla, that's because that was the best thing I could compare that form to. **

Becky Albright was dying. All around her lay broken shards of glass, the chemicals covering most of her body as they seeped into the cuts and scrapes left from the blast from earlier, which had reopened while she was fighting Friitawa. She was barely conscious, not even having the strength to move any part of her body.

The chemicals burned like fire on her wounds, inflaming them into a sickly blotchy red. She would have screamed from the pain, if she had enough strength to scream.

And as she heard the roar of the Scarebeast, all she could think about was how she had failed. Everyone had depended on her to fight off Friitawa, and yet she couldn't. She could barely get a hit in. She could barely even stand her blows, as the woman hit with strength that far surpassed her own and with a speed she could barely avoid.

_I'm so sorry, Jonathan, _she thought, a single tear sliding down her cheek, her chest only barely rising and falling as she struggled to breath. _I did everything I could. I just…wasn't strong…enough. _

And with a final sigh, Becky Albright found herself falling into the dark depths of oblivion.

One minute.

Two minutes.

Suddenly, a finger twitched.

Then another.

Her heart started to beat

Her chest started to rise and fall as she started to take in little gulps of air.

And then, her eyes opened.

And only one thought, like a newborn phoenix, burned through her mind as she rose to her feet: Vengeance

Becky Albright was no more. All that was left was her silent Scream.

Friitawa looked up as the overcast skies poured down rain, thunder booming in the distance as the rain put out many of the fires that had been caused during the Scarebeast's destruction.

She smiled savagely, the rain pelting her skin, and she welcomed it. Now, the Scarebeast's greatest weakness, fire, was useless against him and nothing, short of a bomb, could stop him now.

Her sensitive ears picked up the sound of a foot splashing into a puddle of water. She turned, and her eyes widened in shock as she saw Becky standing before her, her formerly hazel eyes glowing a vivid poisonous yellow-green, eyes the same color of Crane's fear toxin, her scythe held in front of her, ready for the scientist to make a move.

But she only showed her shock for a moment, before masking her shock with contempt. "Hmph, so you survived. I'm impressed. It seems that Scarecrow didn't just chose you because of your pretty face."

The only response she got from Scream was an animalistic snarl as she stepped forward with her left leg, her emerald eyes glaring into the rubicund eyes of Friitawa.

"But still, there is only room for one Mistress of Fear. And unfortunately for you, that title is mine!" she roared, surging towards the woman with the speed of a thunderclap, her scythe slicing through the air, aiming straight for Scream's neck.

Only to strike empty air as Scream seemed to vanish from her previous spot and struck Friitawa in the back, sending her falling forward.

"You dare!" Friitawa snarled, her eyes filled with fury as she rose to her feet, now on the defensive, as she now knew how much power Becky held now that she was consumed by the primal fury of the serum.

Scream roared, her teeth bared as she attacked Friitawa, her scythe a flurry of motion as she whipped it around, her arms a blur as she swung with the speed of a miniature tornado.

This time, it was Friitawa who was barely holding off the woman's attacks, the ferocity of the blows causing her to slowly retreat from her position as the scientist struggled to stand.

Then, with a swift leg sweep, the albino fell, and found her neck just inches from the blade of Scream's scythe as the woman stood above her, her eyes burning like the lava from an erupting volcano.

But Friitawa just started to laugh. "What are you waiting for, plucky Becky? Go ahead! Kill me! Strike me down!

Scream raised her scythe, and Linda lashed out, cutting her across the chin as the albino leapt up. "So much for the 'no-kill' rule. Is justice not enough for you anymore?"

Scream hesitated at her words, her hesitation allowing Friitawa an opening as the scientist slashed her across her midsection, blood coating the edge of the blade. The woman fell to the ground, panting for breath.

"Don't you see? Your morals make you weak, Rebecca. Why can't you let go of all those tedious burdens and submit to the fear that you feel? I can sense it in you. You may hide it behind that mask of yours, but I know that deep in your heart, you're terrified. So, come on. Unleash it! Let everybody know that you are not to be trifled with! I know you have it in you. He wouldn't have chosen you if you didn't have that anger and resentment," she said, frustrated. Why wasn't she trying to kill her? She knew that the girl was holding back, unwilling to let the true power and influence of the serum take effect. If she had, she wouldn't have had enough time to lash out and hit Rebecca before the blow was dealt.

"**No**!" Scream growled, slowly rising to her feet, her hand leaving her wound to reveal that the otherwise fatal blow had healed.

As Friitawa slashed at her again, Scream parried with her scythe, throwing the scientist a few feet as she pushed back, forcing the woman's strength against her.

Friitawa's eyes widened. "That's impossible," she gasped, barely avoiding Scream's counterattack. That weak, pathetic girl couldn't possibly have the strength to not only stand up to her strongest blow, but to push her back. The serum by itself couldn't do that. The Scarebeast formula could, but that would mean that she would have to give in to her rage and fear, fear especially. She couldn't do that and still remain that calm and in control to keep herself from killing her. "The serum can't do that. It can't."

But then, that's when she saw Scream's arms shaking, a common sign of fear and anxiety. And suddenly, she connected the dots, and for the first time in over seven years, she felt herself stricken with fear. "There's no way… that's impossible! One person cannot have that much willpower."

With a snarl, Scream lunged forward, grabbing the handle of Friitawa's scythe and forced the scientist down, curling the handle until it wrapped tightly around her arms and torso.

Friitawa struggled and twisted, only to find that she couldn't break out. "So, what are you going to do to me? Kill me?"

"**Never….kill…**"Scream growled before yanking the mind controller off of her wrist and smashing it in her hand.

Instantly, the Scarebeast stopped, finding himself able to move again. With a roar, he charged towards the warehouse, ready to finally end the one person that had caused him so much pain and suffering.

Scream turned away from Friitawa, staring straight into the furious eyes of the Scarebeast as he charged her, his eyes blazing with fury.

She raised her hand out in front of her, her stance firm and her face calm as she faced the charging behemoth.

And the Scarebeast slowed down, coming to a complete stop inches from her outstretched palm.

"**Scream,**" he rumbled, his feral eyes locked on to her as she stood before him, her long, curly hair, free from its mask, blowing behind her.

She smiled, her eyes looking up at him trustingly as she reached out to touch him.

Turning his head, the Scarebeast suddenly spotted the albino scientist and growled, causing Becky to push herself backwards as he lifted his massive, wooden arm.

Only for a batarang to fly out and hit him in the eye causing him to roar in pain as he scrabbled to get the sharp, irritating object out.

Scream looked in the direction that the batarang had come from to find all the members of the Justice League with their weapons drawn, all aiming towards the Scarebeast.

It roared, its massive tongue slithering out of its mouth as it lunged at the superheroes, its teeth gnashing in anger as they scattered around him like flies, attacking him left and right with either their superpowers or weapons to stop him.

Scream shook her head. It was futile to keep attacking the Scarebeast. The creature couldn't be stopped that way.

That was when she spotted Batman, his black form weaving around the other superheroes as he dodged the Scarebeast's attacks, his hand clutching something shiny and metallic. The woman recognized it instantly.

It was a syringe.


	20. Sacrifice

**Hey, guys. I'm sad to say that we are nearing the end of this story. I've had a blast writing this and I am so happy for all the support I have gotten from you guys. I never expected to get this many reviews and viewings of my story. Thank you all so much.**

**But I have a bit of a conundrum on my hands. I can't seem to decide whether to write a story about Jervis and Alice or a series of one-shots with Crane and Becky. I have stuff planned out for each, but I can't decide which one to write first. So, I'm leaving it up to you to decide, my faithful viewers and reviewers. Give a review or PM me on which one you would like to see first.**

Batman struggled to dodge through the Scarebeast's flailing arms; careful to not loose his grip on the syringe in the process or on the grappling gun he was clinging to for dear life. He knew this was the only way that the Scarebeast could be stopped, as without the tranquilizers in the syringe, the Scarecrow would eventually die of stress, and as a stressed man himself, he knew the toll would be great.

He knew that the other League members were starting to tire. Never had they faced something like this before. Scarecrow by himself was a handful, but this thing was proving to be a herculean task to handle. He only hoped that the beast would stand still long enough to jam the syringe into one of the small openings in his bracken armor.

Batman knew he didn't have much time. Hawkgirl and Aquaman were already down, and the Green Lantern was struggling to withstand the fear gas on the ground as he evacuated the people towards one of the clearer interpasses. He couldn't see the Flash with all the opaque gas in the way, and Superman was still recovering from the Fear Gas.

He knew by himself that he couldn't bring this beast down. He was lucky that the first time he had fought the Scarebeast he had the hidden alcoves in the Batcave to give him the advantage of stealth and silence, his two greatest assets, to defeat it. Now, he had nothing he could hide behind, and if he didn't continue to dodge and weave through the beast's limbs, he would soon end up smashed into a puddle at the bottom of the street.

That's when he spotted something emerging from the fog. At first, at the speed it was going, he thought it was perhaps Flash or one of the younger Justice League members, but as the figure approached, he was shocked to find Becky, dressed in her Scarecrow costume, her eyes glowing a vivid green as she seemed to fly through the fog, her scythe cutting through it like a knife as she dashed towards him.

That brief lapse in his concentration caused the Scarebeast to gain the upper hand; his clawed hands snapped the line holding him aloft and sending him crashing towards the ground.

Only to be inadvertently saved from his fall by a pair of gigantic hands grabbing him, its clawed grip squeezing the air out of him.

"**PUT HIM DOWN, JONATHAN!**"

The wooden giant stopped suddenly, looking down at the small human at the base of his feet.

Becky stood tall as she faced him down, her fiery eyes looking up with concern at him, her shoulders slumped and her breathing ragged. Her adrenaline was starting to wear thin, and she could barely keep herself standing. Her mind swam with horrible visions, and it took all of her willpower to keep herself from running. "**You need to stop! It's over! She has no control over you or any of us anymore.**"

The Scarebeast's eyes glanced at the Justice League, and he growled. He could already see Wonder Woman readying her weapon, ready to make him pay should he go through with crushing Batman's rib cage.

He felt torn. It went against his nature to submit quietly to Batman, and he rather doubted that Batman wouldn't separate him and Becky from each other, and right now, at such a fragile physical and mental state, she could truly break at any time. But he also knew that if he didn't stop himself, he would kill himself, and her in the end.

It was his choice now: to have his revenge and be killed or surrender and live to fight another day?

Then, with reluctant slowness, he uncurled his fist from around Batman's torso, and stood still as the hero jabbed the syringe into the Scarebeast's hand, releasing the tranquilizing contents into its body.

Slowly, as the fear gas started to dissipate into the air, he started to shrink, his wooden skin gradually turning to flesh as he drifted into unconsciousness.

Becky raced to his side, holding him close to her as she started to cry into his shoulder. She didn't care right now that he was half-naked and that everyone else could see her breaking down. All she needed was for him to be in her arms.

She didn't look up as the silent, booted feet of Batman slowly walked towards her. "I know what you're going to say," she replied, her back turned to the Dark Knight. "You're going to say he kidnapped me and gave me Stockholm syndrome or that he got Tetch to brainwash me. And if that's so, then you're wrong!"

"I wasn't going to say that at all," he replied, his tone calm, but firm. He knew that she showed no signs of any abuse during his time of tracking her as she ran errands and pulled heists with the Scarecrow. And he didn't see any signs of listlessness that he usually saw in Tetch's victims, so mind control was also out of the question. "I'm actually amazed that you're still alive and sane after all that's happened. Not everyone can survive that amount of fear gas and still manage to speak."

"I guess," she replied, her shoulders sagging and her eyelids fluttering. She could barely keep her eyes open, much less focus on what Batman was saying. She could hear the sirens of the police cars coming closer to her, but she was too tired to care. Jonathan had already succumbed to the sedatives and had passed out. "But what of Friitawa? Did she escape?"

"No. She's already been put back in Blackgate, where she belongs."

"And what of me? Where will I be going?"

"That's not up to him to decide," Commissioner Gordon replied. His team had already sectioned off the rest of the city from the fear gas, and now was bringing in some economy size fans to dissipate it faster. "The courts will have to decide that for you, Becky. In the meantime, come with me. I'll escort you to jail."

She smiled. Compared to tonight, the jail sounded like a resort. Numbly, she got up, limply walking on her cane as she got into the car, falling asleep once the door was closed.

Seeing that Becky was accounted for, Batman used his Batclaw towards the nearest building, his arms carrying Crane like a load of potatoes as he zipped up the building and headed towards Arkham.


	21. Asylum

The next morning, Becky woke up to cell bars above her bed. At first, she was confused as to why she was in a cage, when last night's events came rushing back to her in an aching groan as she lifted herself up, her body sore from the beatings she had taken from Friitawa.

Slowly, she reached towards the ground, hoping to find her cane. But when she looked around her cell, it was nowhere to be found.

She growled. _Figures they would take that. It wasn't like they were stupid enough to not find the gadgets hidden inside_. But what she was really frustrated at was that there was no replacement. _Don't these people know that I can't walk without something to support me?_ She thought. Slowly, she pulled herself out of bed and wobbled to her feet.

Wait, wobbled?

She looked down, and gasped. "M-my leg…I can move it?" She cried, her mind hardly daring to believe what her eyes were seeing. Her left leg, which had previously only been stiff and unyielding, save for a few toes, was moving before her eyes.

She experimented with it by taking a few steps forward. She wobbled a little with each step, like a newborn giraffe, but didn't loose her balance.

Becky couldn't help the laugh of delight escaping her lips as she started walking around the cell, her steps becoming more coordinated as she practiced, occasionally holding her arms out for balance as she started to walk faster and faster, until she was starting to run in circles around her cell, her grin a small light in the dismally small prison of the Gotham Police Department building.

She soon stopped running, slightly dizzy from the experience, but that was nothing compared to the euphoria running through her system. She could hardly imagine what she could do now. It was a miracle!

"I…I can walk," she breathed; hardly daring to believe this was real. "This can't be real. I-I must be dreaming."

"Ah, so you're finally awake."

She turned towards the sound of the voice. Commissioner Gordon sat outside her barred cage, his eyebrows raised slightly in amusement at her antics.

Becky blushed, looking down in embarrassment. "Oh, Commissioner Gordon. I didn't expect you to be here this early."

"It's just part of the job," he replied, taking a small puff from his favorite pipe, before sliding a bright orange jumpsuit through the bars. "Here, put this on. Once you're done, be prepared to answer some questions."

She nodded, sighing. She had a feeling that she knew what those questions were going to be about. When he walked away, she slowly slid out of her ruined costume, shivering slightly as the cold air hit her exposed skin. Quickly getting dressed, she pulled her legs in closer, trying to regain her body heat as Gordon returned to the wheeled chair he had parked in front of her cell.

"Alright, Commissioner. What are your questions?" she replied calmly, her arms crossed as she prepared for the interrogation.

"Why are you allied with Crane?" he replied, his eyes watching her every move carefully. In his long line of work, he knew to never take his eyes off of Rogues for even one second, especially when they were calm and collected.

She snorted. "I didn't have a choice. It was either stay with him or be caught by the police and put in prison on murder charges. Either way, my life was over."

"Hmm," he muttered, writing her response down on his interrogation papers. "And who did you murder? Describe him to me."

She shook her head. "I-I don't know. I didn't get a good look at him. I was too busy trying to run away. Again." She closed her eyes, fighting to hold back tears. She knew this interrogation was inevitable; she knew that even before she had taken her revenge on Crane. But still, she felt fearful of her fate. _ But I made my decision, _she thought, her hands clenched into fists in her lap. _And no matter how much I could wish it, I can't change the past. Whether good or bad, I have the face the consequences of my actions. Even if it means going to Blackgate._

Gordon adjusted the pipe in his mouth, taking another quick puff. "Now, you do realize that you would likely be sentenced to Arkham for your association with Scarecrow, as well as the recent trauma you've been through?"

Becky smiled. Oddly enough, she didn't feel frightened about that prospect, like most ordinary criminals would. But then again, after the terror she had experienced that night, she felt ready to face it. After all, Arkham wouldn't be as bad as Blackgate would be. In Blackgate, she would be alone and without anyone to defend her if trouble comes knocking on her door. But in Arkham, she had Jonathan, Ivy, and Harley to keep her company, something she had never had in her previous life.

"Yes, I do. But the funny thing is, Commissioner, I'd rather be at Arkham than anywhere else right now."

He raised an eyebrow. It was not every day that he had heard a criminal would rather be put in a mental institution than a regular prison. Gordon shook his head. Perhaps Crane did do something to her. Or maybe he didn't. He had no idea what should be done with her. She was obviously sane, as they wouldn't be having this conversation if she weren't. "Your trial will begin in an hour. "

"Very well," she replied calmly, her gaze holding with his. "I'll see you then."

As Gordon walked away, her calm composure started to crumble, tears streaming down her cheeks as everything hit her at once, her shoulders sagging as she curled in on herself.

She didn't know how to feel, if these tears were tears of sadness or of joy, but she did know this. She could never go back now. She had made her choice.

And she knew that there was no one to blame but herself.

**Hey, guys. Sorry I posted a day late. We've been very busy getting ready for our beach vacation in a few days and I got home late last night from buying some last minute supplies for the trip. **

**Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed the story. I've had a lot of fun creating it and I wouldn't have felt so proud of it if it wasn't for you guys reading, reviewing, and following me on this long journey. I really appreciate all that you've done for me. So much so, that I'm leaving what I write next up to you guys. I have already posted a poll on my account. The one with the most votes will be the next story that I write, followed by the other one once that story is done. **

**Again, thank you guys for sticking by me, even when I didn't update as frequently as I would have liked. I hope you guys have a great day and have a wonderful vacation. Take care!**

**Edit: Sorry about not having the poll up. This is my first time doing a poll, and I had no idea what I was doing. Hopefully, I didn't inconvenience you guys too much. I'll try to do better next time. **


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